#i crammed these three in a week so cut me some slack

[shsl-shipper-gamer-fangirl]

More dangan thieves

“Toot! Toot! This is a HOLD UP!”

“Or maybe doot doot? Ibuki can’t choose which gun to use! Tu turuu~”

“Cease your movement, unruly shadows! Do not make me repeat myself.“

“Are you sure that’s aaaaall the money you have? Let’s open you up and check just to be sure!“

Ibuki Mioda Codename: Noise or Encore Arcana: Sun

Mask: Metal face mask from Mad Max except it extends up to her two oni horns hair [NOTE: unlike all the other masks, only Ibuki's doesn't cover her eyes but beware, her true power lies in her voice]

Ourfit: Looks like something picked out from Kingdom Hearts with all the unnecessary belts and zippers, honestly what style is she even going for? The color scheme is still the same except instead of the school uniform, she wears a lot of leather like a post-apocalyptic musician. Her gloves are mismatched: her right is pink and ends at her wrist while her left is striped pink and ends at her elbow.

Persona: Mousai [yes, she gets all 9 muses in 1 summon, she calls them her band]

*NOTE: Ibuki is that one character who actually tried to apply to become a Dangan Thief. In a convenient turn of events, she managed to eavesdrop on one of their meetings (who knew that doing dubious vocal training at suspicious corners would pay off!) and she was excited as hell! She thought they were cool and wanted to try it out. Through sheer confidence (much to the annoyance of the party), she was able to convince them to let her join (mostly to watch) on one of their field days. Things escalated but thankfully she awakened her persona in the moment of crisis.

Skillset: Strong nuclear skills, weak to psychokinesis; high critical rates but also low resistance to status ailments

Weapons: Guitar axe, sword flute, hammer drum, tuning dagger, trombone shotgun, trumpet pistol, harp crossbow, violin bow, french horn grenade launcher (where does Ibuki get all these weapons?!)

All-Out Attack Card: "Face the music" blasting from speakers (think Coma Doof of Mad Max Fury Road) with her weapon on fire she shouts, "This girl is on fiyaaaaaah!"

Awakening Scene: Mousai: All this shouting reminds us of a song, does it not? A pitiful song. Look at them, walking all over you, drumming to a rhythm that silences yours. Are you just going to let this miserable song go on? Where is your voice? Why aren't you singing louder than these fools who think they can!

Ibuki: This is the part where Ibuki proves you wrong mysterious voice inside Ibuki's head! Clearly you're new to my concert 'cause you would know that I was just warming up! Ibuki didn't become a rockstar by being quiet, Ibuki ROARED! I'll show you just how loud I can be at FULL VOLUME!

Mousai: And here we thought you couldn't get any louder. Your song has finally reached us. As you already know, all great musicians had to sign a contract. I art thou... thou art I...

Ibuki: ROCK AND ROCK AND ROCK AND ROCK AND ROCKROCKROCKROCKROCK AND ROLL, MOUSAI!

Quotes: "Onwards to the next concert, Ace Detective!" "Too fast! I didn't even get to do a solo!" "I leveled up! And I have song to celebrate with!" “Oooooh! A new skill! I can totally rock this!” "That sparkle! That shine! That shining shimmering splendid! It's a treasure chest! Let's go for it!" "A safe room you say? Let's take five and rehearse." “Nothing exciting like wandering in someone's world inside their head.” "Hehehe... I'm just warming up. Bring on the show!" “Can I get an encore? Do you want more?” "Wheeeeeew, boy am I pooped! Let's stop the tour here please." "Look, a shadow! We should go say hi!" “A rabbid fan saw us! Run run run RUN!” "It's like an amateur facing off with a pro... boring and unfair." “Mmmmmhhhhh, I feel like that one would explode with just one note.” "Huh?! You want to fight that? Okay but this is a death flag just saying." “Watch out! This feels like one of those important showdowns! Gotta get your cool lines ready beforehand.” “All my friends, we're glorious! Tonight we are victorious!”

*BATON PASS!* "LET'S MAKE SOME NOISE!" *PROTECT* "Move, bitch! Get out the way!" *ENDURE* "Ugh... My last one standing game is strong!" *PERSONA!* "Burn the stage down, Mousai!" *Follow Up* "Need a second voice for that solo?" *Cover Fire* "Please oh please let me do the chorus." *Harisen Recovery* "Wake up, get up, GET OUT THERE!" *low on health* "I can see it... my ending! AAAAAAAAHHHHH!" *healing someone* "Don't die on me for plot device!" *getting healed* "Aaaaaaah! Feeling alive is so much better than feeling dead." *giving buffs* "Power ups for more power!" *physical attacks* "How do you like the sound of that?" *attacking* "GET REKT!" *attack misses* “Oh no! My hidden ditzy character is showing!" *couldn't finish off enemy* "Can't believe it didn't die, so rude!" *fainting* "It's weird... I can't seem to hear anything... so sad." *getting resurrected* “An encore? Well don't mind if I do!"

[lmao these are all song lyrics] *status ailment* "I, I shake it off! I shake it off!" Burn: "It's fire burning! Fire burning on the dance floor!" Freeze: “Yo, VIP, Let's kick it!!!! Ice! Ice! Baby!” Shock: "Girl, I'm all charged up! Cutie! Electro-cutie!" Forget: "See you driving 'round town with the girl I love and I'm like. Forget you! Ooh, ooh, ooh~" Charm: "We found love in a hopeless place~" Rage: "Let the bodies hit the floor! Let the bodies hit the floor! Let the bodies hit the... FLOOOOOOOOOR!" or “ORAORAORAORAORAORAORA!” Despair: "Please don't take... my sunshine away..." Hunger: "Ah ya ya ya ya I! Keep on hoping we'll eat cake by the ocean!" Dizzy: "You spin my head right round, right round. When you go down, when you go down down." Sleep: “In the jungle... the mighty jungle... the lion sleeps tonight... A weema-weh, wimoweh, wimba way, awimbawe..." Silence: *#@$%&?! or (somebody stole my car radio and now I just sit in silence) Mouse: *to the tune of hickory dickory dock* "Squeaksqueaksqueak squeaksqueaksqueak squeak~"

Mementos Chats: "The acoustics here are amazing! I bet I can yell and it would ECHOOOOOOOO!" "Uuuuuuuggggggghhhhh. Why does Silence even exist? It just makes me want to be LOUDER!" "I tried singing to them shadows, like legit singin not attacking-singing. And they just exploded? Rude!" "Shadows haven't developed the advanced hearing we people persons have. Otherwise they would have been enjoying my concerts." "Hey, maybe I should write my next song about Dangan Thieves. 'You stole my heart so I'm stealing your distorted desires'"

Ibuki: Maybe I should try bringing more instruments next time. I want to try pulling off a concert with my new band! Hajime: For the last time, your persona is not a band. Please only limit summoning them for thieving purposes.

Hajime: I knew you always had a dangerous taste in music but this is just taking it to the next level. Ibuki: What are you talking about, SpaceAce? This is just my usual.

Chiaki: This is so exciting, I think. I've always liked those characters who literally use music to attack. Ibuki: Awwww, that's so sweet of you, Bonbon. I'm gonna dedicate my next song to you!

Nagito: You are lively as always, ahahaha. Nothing can keep your hope quiet, how wonderful! Ibuki: Damn right! Noise is here to turn up the volume!

Fuyuhiko: Where the fuck do you get all these crazy shit weapons? Ibuki: They're Noise Originals obviously! Made them myself to use during concerts but my bandmates never let me.

Peko: The way you wield your instruments... it is quite intriguing. It looks reckless but under trained eyes, it actually holds perfect form. You make it look so easy. Ibuki: Hrrrrr, I don't really get what you say. I just play like how I would, ya know?

Mahiru: Please tell me you don't actually use your weapons in real life. Ibuki: Definitely nadah! Noise is against fighting. Oh, but I do use them to play some sweet notes sometimes.

Ibuki: If I can summon nine people, that's eight more than normal! Oh, no! Does that mean Noise has multiple personalities! Impostor: No, that's not it. I can assure you that's not your case and there's no need for you to worry.

Impostor: Ibuki:

Tsumiki: U-Um, please not so loud when near other people. Hiiii! I'm so s-sorry! It's just, um... it could cause hearing problems so... sorry! Ibuki: It's cool, dokidoki! I just gotta be loud far far away, got it.

Sonia: You have quite the unique persona. To think that your other self looks like a group of nine persons, how interesting! Ibuki: I knooooow! It's like my fantasy band! Me, myself, and I, and I, and I, and I, and I, and I, and I, and Loud I.

------

Gundam Tanaka Codename: (Evil Overlord) Lich Arcana: Strength

Mask: Aku Shogun of Sorrow Mask by EpicLeather

Ourfit: Typical evil overlord getup (think castlevania dracula). Old fashion, dark and edgy, with a cape (black on the outside, violet on the inside), and his purple long scarf still wrapped around his neck. His left sleeve is rolled up until his elbow but instead of bandages, there's a gauntlent made of bones. His gloves have a skeletal design.

*IMPORTANT NOTE: Even though none of his hamsters have awakened, Gundam still insists on bringing the Four Dark Devas of Destruction with him, even going so far as making them all tiny  individual masks, and redubbing them as the Four Dangan Devas of Thieving. Their codenames are as follows:

"Supernova Silver Fox" San-D: Inari "Mirage Golden Hawk" Jum-P: Horus "Crimson Steel Elephant": Ganesha "Invading Black Dragon" Cham-P: Ao Shun

Persona: Kaminari-sama, god of lightning, thunder, storms Note: unlike popular depictions, Gundam's persona looks more adorable than threatening, it's cute AF, takes a form similar to the momonga, japanese dwarf flying squirrel, but with sparks

Skillset: Strong zio skills but weak to garu Weapons: Pair of sai and revolver or flintlock

All-Out Attack Card: “INFINITY UNLIMITED FLAME” written in a summon circle with dark flames scorching in the background and he says, "Ha! You weak creatures make me laugh!"

Awakening Scene: Kaminari-sama: How many times more will you let people make a mockery of your power? You are a Lord of Darkness, are you not? And yet rather than respect, they throw ridicule and insults at you, call you a false god. A powerless god. I ask you this, are you truly that powerless?

Gundam: For a demon born from the abyss of my heart, you should already know the answer. I've been ridiculed enough by others so do not dare join their mockery! A powerless god you say, ha! They spout insults AND lies! My power is no joke. And they would regret every word they said that assumed otherwise!

Kaminari-sama: Spoken like a true Dark Lord. As long as you understand your rights then let us proceed with the contract. I art thou... thou art I... The power you've longed for is already within your grasp. You are no benevolent god. You are an Evil Overlord who destroys all obstacles and punishes all those who oppose you!

Gundam: That's right! Bwahaha! At last! The seal on my dark powers has finally been broken! From this day forth, I have been born anew, only to lay waste to those before me! Strike them down, Kaminari-sama!

Codename: Gundam: Hahaha! At last! The time to unleash my wrath upon the world has come! Tremble before the destructive force before you!

Chiaki: Congratulations on unlocking your persona, Gundam. New party member acquired!

Nagito: It was quite the sight to behold, your awakening, truly I am lucky to witness such hope. Ah, and now you've decided to join us as well. Hmmm, I suppose it's time to address the next issue. So what should his codename be?

Gundam: Ha! I've been waiting for this moment! From here on out you shall address me by my true name! For I am Evil Overlo—

Mahiru: Overruled.

Gundam: W-What's this blasphemy? I haven't even finished yet!

Fuyuhiko: Yeah, you don't need to finish that for us to know it was going to be a long ass name. Newsflash edgelord, we're only shooting for two syllables at most.

Gundam: How preposterous! That is simply not enough to seal my abyssmal power in words. Do you not understand the consequences should my strength remain unrestrained? This pathetic world shall be torn asunder!

Peko: Perhaps we should hear him out first. There must be at least something short for a codename in what he was proposing. Let's try to focus on the main component of his name and then debate on the honorifics later. Is that acceptable enough?

Gundam: Hmph, as long as you do not forget then I shall agree to those terms for now.

Tsumiki: Then um... What would you l-like your codename to be?

Gundam: Evil Overlord of the Underworld

Mahiru: Too long! And I still can't pick any of those for a codename! Take this seriously, will you?

Gundam: You dare question my name? It would seem mortals still lack the skill to comprehend true power before their eyes.

Impostor: It's actually more of a technicality. We can't call you Overlord or Lord because it'll simply get confused with mine, King. Evil and Underworld are out of the question. Is there no other name you wish to go by?

Gundam: Ah... I see. Someone else has claimed a similar name. Even a dark lord such as myself knows to honor rights. I did not foresee such an event.

Chiaki: In other words, you didn't have any backup aliases... I think.

Sonia: Hold your head high, my dark overlord! For I shall crown you with a name worthy of your esteem!

Gundam: What? What is this name that you speak of, Dark Queen?

Sonia: *whispers to herself* Actually, I go by Enchantress here but I don't mind being called your Dark Queen... *clears throat* There is a name spoken with fear in my country. I believe only you can hold it with the same tenacity. Lich, a being of the dark arts. It suits you, does it not, Evil Overlord Lich?

Gundam: Evil Overlord Lich... Fuhuhu... Yes! I can feel the dark arts resonating with it! COWER BEFORE THE MIGHT OF EVIL OVERLORD LICH! Bwahahaha!

Chiaki: Good for you, Evil Overlord Lich.

Hajime: No. No way. We are NOT going to call him that all the time.

Gundam: Traitor! You had promised me freedom in choosing my name! Are you saying that you had no honor to uphold those words from the very beginning!

Nagito: Oh, my. It seems you've upset him. It would be a lengthy discussion if we decide to change his codename at this point. How about we settle for a compromise instead?

Hajime: Fine. We'll call you Evil Overlord Lich whenever but in battles we are redacting that to Lich. Is that compromise enough?

Gundam: I suppose those are agreeable terms. The contract is sealed. You now have my blood in your hands, do your best to not fall prey to its insanity.

Hajime: Yeah, sure whatever. Good to know that you're finally happy. Now let's go.

Gundam: Do not dare to leave just yet. There is another important matter that needs your immediate attention. Be grateful that I had warned you or else you would have suffered a horrible death.

Fuyuhiko: Oh, c'mon! We've already spent like ten minutes here. What else do you want to talk about? Your fucking madeup backstory?

Gundam: You should tread carefully with your words, mere mortal. But no, this urgent business does not address me. It is a decision regarding beings higher than myself.

Mahiru: We get it. Higher powers. Fancy words. Just get to the point and let's be done with this.

Gundam: Now that my power has been sealed by name, I request your assistance in performing more seals... specifically four.

Quotes: "I have spells that last longer than that fight. Let us set off!" "Muwahahaha... I can feel it! Power surges through my veins!" “My repertoir increases yet again!” "A treasure chest? What dangers does this one hold within?" "We've arrived at a safe room. Do not waste this moment's reprieve." “This journey pales in comparison to the trek I did to reach the Underworld where my brethren live.” "An Evil Overlord is a being void of humanity. Worry not for I need no rest." “My mortal vessel is proving to be cumbersome. Even so, I will not let it hold me back.” "Do not mistake this exhaustion for weakness. Contain such great power puts a toll on any mortal body and my vessel has reached its limits." "Fiends run amok. Shall we cleanse the area?" “Ack! We've been sighted? They must have felt the disturbance in the air." “I take pity on these unworthy opponents.” "They are no threat to us. Quickly decide on their fates." "Tread carefully! Even from this distance, I can sense the oppressiveness of their powers." “We must prepare ourselves for this one or our lives shall be forfeit.” “Another victory to add to my inordinate saga!”

*BATON PASS!* "Face the wrath of The Evil Overlord Lich!" *PROTECT* "Fool! Defend yourself!" *ENDURE* "You fiend... Did you think that was enough to best me?" *PERSONA!* "Rise forth, Kaminari-sama!" or "Strike them down, Kaminari-sama!" *Follow Up* "Call upon my wrath!" *Cover Fire* "Let my thunderstorm rain upon them!" *Harisen Recovery* "Do not disappoint me!" *low on health* "Hmph... Did you truly think that dying would strike fear into my heart?" *healing someone* "It's far too early for you to join me in the Underworld." *getting healed* "I shall remember your generosity." *giving buffs* "By the dark arts, I imbue you with strength!" *physical attacks* "Lightning strikes! Twice!" *attacking* "Your end is nigh!" *attack misses* “Preposterous! You avoided your fate?" *couldn't finish off enemy* "Delaying the inevitable will only bring you greater suffering." *fainting* "Fallen I have... but my life was one lived to the fullest." *getting resurrected* “A second chance? If you truly miss me then I will gladly return at your call.”

*status ailment* "Curse this mortal body!" Burn: "This fire holds no flame against my Infinity Unlimited Flame!" Freeze: “This frostbite is all bark and no bite!” Shock: "Betrayed...? By my own element?" Forget: "My name... has been sealed again?" Charm: “The call of darkness beckons me!” Rage: “Face the wrath of my fury!” Despair: "All these struggles... are they even worth it?" Hunger: "The beast within howls! I recquire sustenance immediately!" Dizzy: "What's this? I can't sense their aura as sharply!" Sleep: “Snore... Tremblewithfear... Zzz...” Silence: !!! Mouse: "SQUEAK!"

Mementos Chats: "Be grateful, foolish mortals, for I am a generous Dark Lord who spares his time for your thievery." "Some of the shadows look more animalistic than fiendish... what is this inner turmoil?" "The storm surges on outside in the real world. Now is the time to strike terror into the shadows!" "I can feel it... My Evil Eye tells me that there is great malice within the walls of Mementos." "I shall conquer the real world and the cognitive world as well!" "An Evil Overlord serving as a Dangan Thief... Of course, evil is known to wear many masks."

Chiaki: Our personas should reflect our own psyches, right? Hajime: I guess. I mean they aren't called our "other selves" for no reason. Chiaki: Hmmm, I see. I wonder what that says about Lich. Nagito: Ah, I now understand why you brought this up. He does posess an... interesting persona. Fuyuhiko: Just call it as it is. It's fucking adorable that's what. Mahiru: For a guy who's edgier than a knife, he's actually a huge softie on the inside. Ibuki: Oyaoya? Could this be what they call "gap moe"? Tsumiki: B-But it's still dangerous! It h-hurt a lot when he got brainwashed and used it on me, hiiii! Impostor: True, we must not underestimate it for its appearance. His persona is terrifying... no matter how cute it seems. Peko: That may be so... I wonder if it's fur is as soft as it looks... Maybe since it's a persona, I can actually get to pet it. Sonia: It would seem that everyone has taken a liking to your persona, oh Dark One. It's very cute indeed. Gundam: Cute is not befitting for a god! It's merely a disguise for you to let your guard down- cease your shallow appraisal on its appearance!

Gundam: I thought we agreed that you would address me by my full title outside of battles. Hajime: Lich can you not.

Hajime: I can't believe you really did bring your hamsters with you... Wait, are those masks? You even made them their own masks? By hand? Gundam: How else do you suppose would they acquire garments fitting of gods?

Chiaki: Whenever Lich talks, it's like I'm playing an old fantasy RPG. Recruiting an Evil Overlord as a party member is amazing, I think. Gundam: Even for someone as aloof as yourself, you say the wisest things. No need to thank my generosity, you're welcome.

Nagito: It's actually quite thoughtful of you to make masks for your hamsters. These are very well made even. As expected of someone filled with so much hope! Gundam: Fufufu... Your praise will not earn you any favors but it is acceptable enough.

Fuyuhiko: You could tone it down with your fancy shit. Seriously just yell zio like any person with common sense would, no need for a five minute incantation full of crap. Gundam: You lack the power to understand the full potential of my spells. My incantations fuel the strength of my skills so do not underestimate their value.

Peko: Even in the Metaverse, the animal-based shadows fear me... Gundam: Do not despair over such a loss. Come now, let my Four Dangan Devas of Thieving comfort you.

Mahiru: Your outfit is impractical as always. Isn't that cape too long? You're going to step on it one day. Gundam: A small price to pay for the physical manifestation of my power. There is nothing to fear for I, Evil Overlord Lich, shall die by

Tsumiki: Um... Is it really alright for those four to join us? These battles can get life-threatening...   Gundam: Fret not, nurse of the heart. These four devas are more trained than I. Should the need arise, they are capable of defending themselves.

Impostor: So we have a King and an Overlord, and yet our leader is called Ace. Gundam: The Chosen One must humble themselves to serve a position of such high authority. Although this does bring attention to an issue. Perhaps we should discuss with him a change of title.

Ibuki: Yahooo! Now that Lychee has real powers, does that make him OOC when he talks about his fake real powers? Noise is confused. Gundam: It's Lich, Noisy One. And I don't need to understand your outdated language to know that you've thrown ridicule at me. I've always had this power. It's just that only now with the seal is broken can you bear witness to its wrath.

Sonia: Oh, how lovely! You brought the four devas with you today as well. May I? Gundam: ...They would not be so opposed.

Sonia: As expected of you! Your outfit is as handsome as your usual! Gundam: *hides under scarf* I... could say the same to you. Yours suit you quite well.

Gundam: It is... new to me to have a creature bound to me and yet have no obligation to care for it regularly. Sonia: Oh, you're talking about your persona, aren't you? I see, I didn't think it would bother you this much. That just shows how much dedicated you are, it's quite admirable.

Gundam: That was a formidable move you used back there. Your fire for chaos burns ever so fervently. Sonia: Thank you, that's one of my favorite fires actually.

-----

Hiyoko Saionji Codename: Ibis Arcana: Tower

Mask: Red bird shaped mask with a long black beak

Ourfit: Traditional shrine maiden attire (red hakama or pleated skirt tied with a bow, white haori, some ribbons) The sleeves look like feathers to further resemble the Japanese crested ibis.

Persona: Karura, divine creature with human torso and birdlike head

*NOTE: Hiyoko is recruited after getting Mahiru, she is introduced during one of Mahiru's confidant events. If you use Mahiru enough times in the active party then this will trigger an extra quest wherein Hiyoko eventually joins the team. She only joins because of Mahiru obviously.

Skillset: Strong garu skills and weak to zio. Good at inflicting status ailments and debuffs, and nullifying party debuffs. Weapons: Tessen (japanese war fan) and fukiya (japanese blow gun)

All-Out Attack Card: "Dance on someone's grave" painted on the backdrop of a traditional stage and she says, "Squish! Squish! Ahahaha! You're all WEAK!"

Awakening Scene: Karura: What is your next step? Will you just cry over it like some child? Have you not grown up at all? For all the elegance and maturity that your dance brings, your steps falter outside that of a stage. How pitiful. Perhaps crying suits you more than dancing given how spoiled you've become.

Hiyoko: How dare you! I'm not a kid! I haven't been a kid ever since I wore my first kimono! Why are you so mean to me? Aren't you supposed on my side? Everyone keeps ganging up on me. I hate you all! Cry? Don't make me laugh. The only ones who'll be crying are my enemies as I crush them under my heels!

Karura: Yes, that is the attitude most befitting on you. The dance is always most exciting at its climax. I art thou... thou art I... Abandon your childlike innocence, you have no need for that where we are heading. The merciless spirit of a warrior suits you more, as it should. Do not shed tears but rather strive for your enemy's bloodshed.

Hiyoko: Hmph! You don't need to tell me twice. I'm gonna have soooo much fun playing with them! And CRUSHING them to pieces. Once I enter the stage, only I leave in one piece. Dance, Karura!

Quotes: "Too easy. Hey, what are you standing there for? Let's go, bowtie." "Yaaaay! I leveled up!" “New skill! Yay! I wonder how painful this one would be!” "Look! A treasure chest! It's all sparkly and shouting to be opened!" "Finally, a safe room! My feet huuuuuurt!" “Why isn't there just a shortcut to the treasure?” "I got a good sleep which means I can play more today!" “As long as I get to kill some shadows then I guess I can go along just a bit more.” "Ehhh? We're still going? I don't wannaaaaaaa." "Look, a bug! Let's crush it." "We were spotted? This is all your fault!" “They're so weak that at least insects leave a mark after.” "Huh? Are you sure? They look pretty scary to me." “They're obviously big bad meanies. Don't get us killed over your stupidity.” “Victory! Yay! Who knew killing shadows could be so fun!”

*BATON PASS!* "Ibis elegantly flying in!" *PROTECT* "Hey, pushover!" *ENDURE* "*sniffles* I don't want to die!" *PERSONA!* "Slaughter them, Karura!" or "Soar, Karura!" *Follow Up* "Let's kill them while we're at it." *Cover Fire* "I'll help if you ask niiiiicely." *Harisen Recovery* "Don't be such a baby!" *low on health* "A little help here?!" *healing someone* "You owe me for this." *getting healed* "*mumbles* Thanks..." *giving buffs* "Now you don't have any excuse." *physical attacks* "Oh this? Don't mind the sharp edges." *attacking* "Ahahaha! You're going to get sliced like fish!" *attack misses* "Huuuh? You have a lot of nerve to dodge that!" *couldn't finish off enemy* "Seriously? Just die already!" *fainting* "*crying* Why... Why are you all so mean?" *getting resurrected* "*sniffles* Thanks. Now I can finally get my revenge."

*status ailment* "I don't feel so good... *sniffle*" Burn: "Too hot! I want some ice cream!" Freeze: “Are you trying to freeze me to death? Get me a kotatsu!” Shock: "Tch! I'm going to kill you twice for this!" Forget: "Huh? What was the next step again?" Charm: “Well who could blame me? If I'm fighting then I'm fighting with the winning team.” Rage: “I'll break you... piece by broken piece!” Despair: "Waaaaaaaaaaaaaah! Why is this so hard!" Hunger: "Sweets! Hand me gummies right now! No yellow!" Dizzy: "Euugh... I think I'm going to be sick..." Sleep: “Zzz… CRUSH” Silence: ...! Mouse: "Squeak!"

Mementos Chats: "Killing shadows is sooooo much fun! Yay!" "You know what else is fun? Having the shadows beg for mercy as we extort more money from them. "I was raised in a traditional household and traditionally, we always get what we want." "All this fighting makes me crave for some sweets." "If I knew how much fun it is to kill shadows without consequence then I would have signed up for Dangan Thieves sooner!"

Hiyoko: Ehh? You're the leader? Well aren't you just disappointing. Hajime: I'm really starting to think we shouldn't accept everyone who joins.

Hajime: Why am I actually not surprised at how sadistically good you are at this? Hiyoko: Ew! I'm not interested so don't bother complimenting me.

Chiaki: Amazing! I've only seen it in videogames but you can actually fight using fans! Hiyoko: I can do so much more than just fight. There's slice and kill too.

Nagito: I was wondering how you would adapt here but clearly I've underestimated your hope. You're more than capable in battle, I'm pleasantly surprised by this development. Hiyoko: Why is this creep here? Are you going to kick him out or do I have to?

Fuyuhiko: Don't get all cocky just because you've got a few tricks up your sleeve. Hiyoko: Oh look, the Baby Gangster knows how to talk.

Peko: So that makes two of us with bird motifs... Hiyoko: It's frustrating that I wasn't the first one but I guess we have no choice but to share.

Tsumiki: I-I'm so happy that you're with us too! Hiyoko: Shut it! No one asked for your opinion, pig barf! But for the record, someone has to look after you so you don't screw up like you always do.

Ibuki: Ibissy~ Look at you! Killing shadows! Stealing treasures! Wow, you sure grow up fast! Hiyoko: It literally only took me one minute to get a persona and "grow up".

Impostor: Is something the matter? You've been staring. Hiyoko: Wow, I knew pork feet was rich but I didn't think you'd have the balls to wear rich.

Sonia: It's amazing watching you do battle. Your dances are just as captivating as they are deadly! Hiyoko: Not all of us can be this good so I step it up.

Gundam: Since you are new at this, I am generous enough to guide you. Should you have any questions, know that I know more than you. Hiyoko: You guys really don't discriminate when recruiting, huh.

Hiyoko: Waaaaaaaaah! I'm so happy I get to be with you more, Big Sis! Mahiru: Now, now. No need to cry. I'm happy too.

Mahiru: It's a good thing that you joined us. Your skills are unique and valuable. Debuffs can really take a toll. Hiyoko: Not as useful as yours, Big Sis! I'm so happy that there's at least one reliable person here!

Mahiru: I'm kind of jealous that everyone has such elaborate personas and mine is just... this. Hiyoko: Why are you getting sad over that? Yours is waaaay better than what the rest of these losers have.

Hiyoko: Yay! Killing shadows is way more fun than squishing bugs! Mahiru: Hearing you say that with such a carefree face makes me worry a bit... Just don't get too carried away.

[ackerfics]

slow dance with you — mikasa ackerman

— goth!mikasa ackerman x soft!female reader (modern au)

— warnings: slight mention of alcohol, pure rotten fluff

— summary:  after gaining some courage from the drinks she had in the party and from the advice she got from her friends, mikasa is ready to become your girlfriend.

— word count: 3.9k

— author’s notes: i would like to thank the anon who gave me some ideas for goth!mikasa, you are so amazing !! thank you for the small headcanons. and since we’re on the topic of writing abt goth!mikasa, i couldn’t help but pair her up with a classic soft girl who likes to wear pink at every time of the day. this dynamic is based on marceline and princess bubblegum so i hope you enjoy !!

p.s. the reader will have dyed hair here, if this is not your cup of tea, just let this fly by your dash.

listen to this while reading.

“She dyed her hair pink,” came a dazed yet mesmerized tone.

“You’re staring at her again.”

Mikasa jumped on her seat at Eren’s nonchalant observation. She whipped her head to her best friend, his attention directed on his laptop, hands flying across the keyboard as he typed out the next few words in his essay. Noticing the incredulous look the black-haired girl was shooting him, Eren rose an eyebrow before rolling his eyes. Mikasa huffed, crossing her eyes with a subtle hue of red on her cheeks, complimenting her dark lipstick. “I am not staring,” she mumbled. “Shut up, Eren.” She looked away from her subject of interest but continued shooting small glances.

Eren sighed, running his hand through his hair. He was always one of the witnesses of his best friend slash sister being meek around her crush. At first, he was teasing her because not going to lie, Mikasa’s crush is a pretty person but as their years in college made them juniors, Eren will be the reckless idiot that he is (courtesy of Armin) and set Mikasa up. But he liked to live his life out first — Mikasa will probably curse him with that spellbook she bought from the antique bookshop they encountered in their little exploration back when they were first-years. “Mikasa, why don’t you take the chance and confess to her? It’s not going to be the end of the world.”

“If she rejects me? What then?”

“Then that’s the next problem that you will have to face.” The brown-haired boy turned back to his essay. He stared at his laptop screen blankly before spewing out curses. “Now, I forgot what to write next! Damn it.” He picked up his iced coffee and drank from the metal straw as his life depended on it.

Mikasa rolled her eyes at her best friend’s first statement. “Gee, thanks for the advice. It was very much appreciated.”

“Glad to be of help.”

There was a thud on their table that made the two look up from their respective activities. Eren had a scowl on his face because for the nth time this day, he was interrupted from finishing his essay (for fuck’s sake, he doesn’t want to fail Ackerman’s class). Mikasa blinked from scrolling through her crush’s Twitter account (the last post she wrote was about how Levi Ackerman, Mikasa’s relative and everyone’s Anthropology professor) and fixed her attention on their blonde friend, Armin. He looked too bright after a round of morning classes, something that Eren doesn’t comprehend. The blue-eyed young man has always been the rational and genius third of their little group. There wasn’t a time where Armin’s advice got a situation to erupt in flames. It was either the situation became an inferno instead (Eren) or nobody had the guts to do it (Mikasa).

“Hey, guys!” Armin greeted, arranging his side of the table, meticulously placing each component of his lunch in front of him. “How were your morning classes?”

“Shit,” Eren spat out.

“Of course, it is.”

“They were alright,” Mikasa shrugged.

“Figured.” Armin glanced at his friend’s sides of the table, nodding at Mikasa’s balanced lunch while blankly staring at Eren’s laptop. The device should’ve been a good tray of lunch. “I thought you were eating lunch, Eren? That’s what you said in your text.”

“Can’t,” the brown-haired boy huffed. He gestured at his iced coffee without taking his eyes off the laptop. “I guess, this counts as my lunch.”

“When’s that essay due?”

“In about,” Eren looked at the time on his laptop, “three hours. Ackerman is my first period later. That fucking terror professor has no mercy when it comes to this. Can he just piss off for once? Mikasa, do you even tell him to get laid? Because I think that would solve his attitude. I swear to God, he’s getting more pissed every damn day.”

“Wow, I guess getting my short, grumpy, middle-aged uncle to start his sex life will be a nice conversation starter,” Mikasa drawled, half-lidded, bored eyes reading every tweet her crush has posted for the entire week. Mikasa couldn’t help but smile at one post about a new movie her crush just watched, saying that it was now a new favorite. She was tempted to give a heart on every single post but that would it weird because they never followed each other despite the small interactions they shared in between classes. With a sigh, she looked up, only to be met with Eren’s unamused stare. Raising an eyebrow, she asked, “What? Do you think that would work, Eren? Levi is probably a virgin his whole life and will continue his record until he’s all shriveled up.” Eren blanched at the image. “Just finish your homework and stop complaining.”

“I’m trying!”

“You’re not trying hard enough, that’s for sure. If you just started that essay the day he assigned it to your class, you would have finished it way before the deadline.”

Eren pointed at Mikasa with narrowed eyes. “Don’t even go there, Mikasa. I have a life aside from being a sleep-deprived college student.”

“I mean, she’s got a point, Eren.” Armin immediately rose his hands in defense when Eren shifted his glare from the black-haired young woman to him. “You always tend to procrastinate in the most impeccable timing that we sometimes have to remind you of your backlogs. And now, here you are, doing things last minute when you could’ve prevented the rush by doing it immediately.”

“Thanks for slapping the reality to my face, you two,” Eren dryly replied, going back to his essay for the final time. “And by the way, Armin, give Mikasa some solid advice that she will finally follow because she’s making googly eyes at Miss Pretty two tables from us a couple of minutes before you arrived. You know, the love of her life?”

Armin roamed his eyes in the lunch hall and sure enough, there was Mikasa’s goddess sitting with her group of friends. There was that brown-haired girl that was dubbed as the Potato Girl for eating mashed potatoes during Ackerman’s class (the professor told the class his rules of no eating or going out of the room while he’s discussing the moment the girl took a spoonful of her snack). A young man with a buzz cut snorting at what the brown-haired girl said. Armin remembered sharing a class with him. He never got the chance to introduce himself because the young man was sleeping throughout the lecture. There was usually a fourth person in the little group but it seems like he was running late or already in his class. That person was Eren’s sworn frenemy, the reason for that relationship was unknown to this day.

The three people at the table all stood up, the brown-haired girl and the taller young man leading the way. Armin instantly had an idea.

“Hey, [Name]!”

Mikasa nearly had whiplash from turning her head to Armin. “Armin?!” she hissed under her breath, face becoming hotter when you looked at their table, a bright smile lighting up your face. You called your friends, telling them to go on ahead without you, to which they nodded before walking towards the trio’s table. Her brain wasn’t processing the moment you lifted a hand to wave at whoever you were smiling at. Mikasa wished it was her. “Fuck,” she whispered, registering how cute you look. You donned a salmon pink plaid sundress and a white cardigan, matching with the bubblegum pink locks you let down. Her heart was hammering a thousand miles per second and there was no hope of stopping it.

“Hi, Armin,” you replied, stopping a few feet from Mikasa, who looked away from you to fix her wide-eyed stare on her empty plate.

“I was just going to ask if you already have a partner in our Molecular Biology lab?” The blue-eyed young man then turned to Mikasa and Eren. “I’m in the same class as her this year.”

“As if calling her here wasn’t that obvious,” Eren murmured, still typing out his essay.

“I don’t need your dry remarks right now, Eren, don’t want to ruin the atmosphere. So, [Name], you have a partner?”

You shook your head. “I think not. It would be great if we could be partners though. I need a break from the people I’ve been partnered with throughout college.”

He gave you a sympathetic smile. It was true, though. Most of the grouping during your first years of college were all set up by the teachers so the students really had no say on the matter at hand. Even Armin was exposed to a variety of students, most of them being too slacking to participate or too overbearing with their suggestions that they have no plans of doing. He nodded with a smile, “I’ll be sending an email to Professor Zoe about this and we’re done.” He glanced behind you, noticing that your two friends weren’t there anymore. “I’m sorry for holding you up. I’m pretty sure you have a class after lunch. See you around?”

You waved him off. “It’s fine, I told them to go ahead since Sasha has a class scheduled right after lunch and Connie had to nap in his dorm. And I don’t have any class the whole afternoon, except for an online session so yeah, see you around, Armin.” You acknowledge Eren with a nod, to which he responded with a cool expression (as if his mind wasn’t a mess from the cramming), and gave a soft smile to Mikasa, “Bye, Mikasa.” And you were off to your dorm, leaving behind two amused men and an awestruck Mikasa.

The black-haired young woman was hyperventilating the moment you disappeared from the lunch hall, hands clenched on top of her black shorts. She regretted wearing a thin, long-sleeved striped sweater under her black shirt because it was so fucking hot after that encounter. Her entire body was vibrating with too many emotions all at once, short-circuiting until she became a heap of flustered mess in front of her best friends. “Oh, my God,” she muttered like a prayer. She definitely needed one after seeing you all pretty in pink. It was too much for her soul because you two are a perfect match this time. Her grommet belt and choker were not helping because she couldn’t fucking breathe.

“Mikasa, breathe,” Armin reminded beside her. “Yeah, that’s it.”

Once she regained her composure, Mikasa realized she probably looked like a gaping fish. “Oh, my God! I’m so sure that this time, she thinks I’m weird. My name is the only one she mentioned aside from Armin which is saying something because she’s classmates with him. But why did she say goodbye to me? Oh, my God, she’s giving me so many butterflies right now.”

“Your gay is showing,” Eren pointed out calmly.

“Eren, not the time,” Armin murmured, hovering his hands over Mikasa’s back.

“Just wanted to alleviate the tense atmosphere. No need to get so worked up.”

“But, Mikasa, your feelings for her are showing.”

Eren clapped his hands, pointing a finger at Armin. “That, my friend, is a genius observation.”

Ignoring the green-eyed man, Armin continued, “I think it’s time you confess to her. Three years is a pretty long time pining for a person. In the end, her knowing your feelings will be inevitable. That is if you have no plans in letting her know.”

“Of course, I want her to know,” Mikasa murmured, fiddling with the sleeves of her striped long-sleeves.

“I heard that there’s a party this Saturday in Reiner’s frat,” Eren told them, meeting both of his friends’ eyes over the top of his laptop screen. “We’re in the same football team with Jean. The horseface is a friend of your girl,” he nodded at Mikasa, who erupted in a sputter of her crush not being her girl, “okay, not your girl — yet. As I was saying, [Name] is good friends with Jean and if Jean is there, Miss Pretty in Pink will be, too. That’s your chance to ask her out, Mikasa.” He met the blinking gray eyes of his best friend. “The question is, are you up for that?”

-

“You were staring at her so hard at lunch again.”

You looked up from your book to acknowledge Sasha entering your dorm room after a whole afternoon of packed lectures. The brown-haired young woman was so tired that she immediately plopped on top of her bed on the other side of the room. At first, you didn’t register what she said because you were preoccupied with your book. You chose to indulge the night in a good book because it has been a long time since you’ve done that. With furrowed eyebrows, you asked, “Can you repeat what you said, Sasha?”

Sasha tilted her head to look at you with one eye uncovered by her duvet. Her hair fluttered after puffing out a breath of disbelief. “Oh, don’t pretend that you have no idea, Miss Pretty in Pink.”

“That’s because I didn’t catch what you said,” you replied, gesturing at your novel. “And what’s with that Miss Pretty in Pink nickname? Did some of the students around campus started that?”

“Sort of,” Sasha hummed. She sat up from her bed and took out her phone from her backpack lying on the floor. You watched the whole time she stretched her arm without changing her position on her bed. With her phone in hand, she opened her Twitter account. “Actually, a friend of mine tweeted it, wait, I’m just going to scroll through my Likes tab to find her tweet. Oh, here it is.” Sasha showed you her screen, patiently waiting for you to take the device from her hand to get a closer look. Her hopeful smile turned into a small pout when you made no moves in doing so. “Take my phone and see for yourself.”

You sighed, following her pleas. “It’s probably just someone from the volleyball team. You know how some of them never stopped following me around campus. Can’t they take the hint that they’re not my type?”

“This person is much better than those himbo simps following you around. She’s an amazing person behind that shy exterior of hers.”

You only hummed, blankly staring at your roommate’s phone before your eyes widened in realization. Your eyes skimmed over and over again at the handle, mkackerman, beside the display picture of a short-haired girl in pigtails. It was the girl that managed to capture your attention during your first year at Eldia University. The girl with an air of mystique that the stars are jealous of. You always admired her from afar, appreciating her style each day. But your admiration was getting replaced with something more at the five words she tweeted. 

You’re so pretty in pink.

Roses bloomed in your cheeks, complimenting your pink hair the longer you gawked at her short post. 

“What?” you breathed out after a full minute of silence.

“Mm-hmm,” Sasha hummed with a smug smile. “And who dyed her hair pink impulsively last weekend?” She intentionally looked at you with sharp eyes, her smile turning into a smirk full of mischief. In actuality, Sasha knew of Mikasa’s crush on you since they were acquainted with each other. It was an embarrassing first meeting between the two, with Sasha latching on a random person’s arm in the station and it turned out to be Mikasa. The two became great friends after that, well, after Mikasa lowered her guard down, leaving her pocket knife safely tucked underneath her checkered skirt. It was Sasha who managed to make Mikasa confess of her undying love for you, the former squealing her heart out in the library. (They were kicked out after that.) 

“I don’t know,” you denied. “There could be a couple of people in the campus who thought that spontaneously dyeing their hair pink is an awesome idea.” You threw your hands in the air, giving back Sasha her phone right after.

“Trust me. Mikasa doesn’t have any interest in any other girl other than a special someone I know.”

You chose to ignore her, turning back on the discarded book on top of your covers. The words flew around your mind, aggravating you until you placed the novel on your lap. A defeated sigh came out of your lips. “Okay, let’s go out for some dinner.” You stretched, switching your pajama bottoms for a pair of loose jeans, and leaving your button-down pajama top on. The people in public will never know your top is a part of a pajama set. As you ducked down to roll the bottom of your jeans, you hear Sasha’s bed shuffling. Sitting up, you regarded her with an inquisitive raise of an eyebrow. “Spill it.”

“Oh, alright. Jean told me to bring you to a party.”

You stood up, patting your lap of imaginary dust, placing your things and book inside your tote bag. “Tell him no. I have a written exam coming up and I don’t want to fail one of my majors. He can manage without one person in our friendship group.”

Sasha huffed, mimicking your actions. “This will be the last time!”

“You said that the previous party you pulled me to.” You narrowed your eyes at her. “I couldn’t get up for a whole day because of that party. Don’t forget your wallet.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Sasha threw her wallet in her small bag, throwing the strap over her shoulder. “I promise that this will be the last time, I’ll even call Connie for the witness of my pact!” She placed a heartfelt palm over her chest, lifting her chin a little in the air. “I solemnly swear I am … keeping my promise.”

“You hesitated.”

The brown-haired girl giggled sheepishly, scratching the back of her neck. “It’s kind of hard not to continue the quote from Harry Potter. You can’t blame me for that!”

“I’ll think about it, okay?”

“You better because Mikasa will be there.”

You blinked at her statement. “What does this have to do with her?”

Your roommate looped her arm with yours, pulling you in the direction of the elevators. “Because,” it sounded like she was talking to a child, “you were staring at her earlier during lunch period. I understand that because Mikasa looks so good every second of the day but there was something different about the way you’re staring at her.” She tapped her finger on her chin. “Let me see, there’s some pizzaz there.”

“The pizzaz you’re talking about is me admiring her make-up — nothing more.”

“Whatever you say,” came Sasha’s sing-song voice. “I will be the first one who will say ‘I told you so’ to your face when you two start dating.”

-

The night of the party was not as bizarre as you thought.

Sure, there were people having shots in the living room but there weren’t any extreme scenarios lying around unlike some of the parties Connie and Jean went to. It was mostly catching up with old friends or making connections with strangers by ranting about the education system of your university. All in all, it was a fun night, yet here you are, holding your cup of beer with two hands as you craned your neck to get a glimpse of Sasha. Your roommate disappeared as you turned to get a shot, leaving a confused you behind. To think you specifically asked Sasha to be by your side throughout the night. You cursed in your head, you being reliant on the presence of others surfacing. Your stress made you tip your head back, downing your drink in a go.

Without anything to do, you leaned back on the wall. Mind hazy, eyes glassy, you searched the living room for a spunky brown-haired girl that you were supposed to be buddies with. Instead of Sasha, you met gazes with a girl with stars for her eyes. She was equally mesmerized as she was staring straight at you. Everything became silent as your heartbeat resonated with hers. She was beautiful in her all-black outfit — a leather pencil skirt over fishnet stockings, cropped tank top, and combat boots. The two of you are contrasting with one another; her lipstick so dark whilst yours shone a pretty coral, her hair framing her face in a midnight pixie cut whilst yours were in pink waves cascading down, her entire appearance blending in the background whilst you were a beacon with your coordinating soft outfit. 

God damn it, Sasha was right.

You are definitely falling in love with Mikasa Ackerman.

Mikasa who you saw reading tarot cards of her blonde friend. Mikasa who you bumped into during the opening ceremony two years ago. Mikasa who you discovered to have an affinity for electric guitars when you stumbled in one of the auditoriums, her department’s band having an audition. Mikasa who never meets your gaze because you make her nervous at how effortless you carry yourself. 

But tonight, she never looked away from you, her eyes having an adoring yet determined shine.

She stopped in front of you, mere inches separating you two. You looked up at her, her combat boots making her taller than she already is. You saw her eyes flick to your lips, your breath hitching at the thought of having her dark lipstick on any part of your body. With a careful tilt of her head, Mikasa ducked her head a little to fully meet your eyes face to face. “I saw you’re alone,” her voice is still soft-spoken as if she was afraid that she was scaring you. It might be because of the liquid and verbal courage she got from drinking and listening to her best friends because Mikasa had no plans of letting you go tonight. “I thought you needed company.”

A breath came out of your lips, your proximity making Mikasa feel it. “Uhm, if it’s you, I don’t see why not?”

A large smile brightened Mikasa’s face before it dimmed as she lowered her gaze to your lips once more. “I’ve been waiting three years for this.”

Maybe your mind was too hazy with alcohol or it could be because you accepted your feelings for the black-haired girl, so you whispered, lips brushing against hers in the most addicting way possible, “Just kiss me, Mikasa.”

Her lips softly moved against yours in a slow dance, the inches separating you disappearing as Mikasa wrapped an arm around your waist. You lift a hand to cup her jaw, tilting your head to deepen the kiss and to brush your tongue with hers. You felt her shiver, biting your lower lip to make you open up more, with your whimpers tingling her hearing. Mikasa pulled away, trailing firm kisses on the skin where your shoulder meets your neck. Seeing the black kiss mark on your skin, she smiled and placed fluttering kisses on your neck up to your cheek. Opening your eyes, the silver grays in front of you have never been so beautiful. You returned the favor of placing kiss marks. You stood on your tiptoes, feeling Mikasa’s hand steadying you, and left a coral pink mark on the corner of her mouth. 

Mikasa dipped her head, placing her lips close to your ear.

“I want to slow dance with you,” she sung to your ear. “I know all the other boys are tough and smooth and I got the blues. I want to slow dance with you.” Mikasa hid a small smile at your flustered expression. “So can I be your vampire queen, Bonnie?”

The moment you said yes, there was a shout in the crowds. “Hell yeah, your plan worked, Eren, Armin!”

You and Mikasa stared at each other with wide eyes before laughing. 

“Let’s go ditch this party.”

“Thought you’d never ask, Bonnie.”

[sooibian]

So Let's Runaway - Costa Brava

Prologue >> Costa Brava >> Seville >> Cuéllar

Pairing: Kyungsoo x Fem!Reader ft. bff!Chanyeol

Genre/Themes: Fluff, angst, humour, travel AU, road trip through Spain, travel buddies Chansoo

Warnings: Grief, loss, heartache, toxic relationships, mildly explicit language

Description: A bachelors trip turns into a soul-searching journey when an unlikely group of three travels through the scenic landscapes of Spain. Their experiences present them with opportunities to mend bridges, face their fears and fall back in love with the true essence of life.

Word Count: ~ 5.3k

A/N: this story is a part of @supermwritersnet​ ‘Around the world in 31 days’ event. event masterlist. 

Tag list: @sooadorable @rosetvler @changshapatrol @his-mochi-cheeks @is-that-baekhyuns-shirt @j-pping @kysoobydoobydoo @exoxobsession @camillapad @reekyungsoo​ let me know if you’d like to be (un)tagged.

@smolgirlbigthoughts​ thank you so much for the description!!! ;~~~~~;

After having stayed the night (or whatever was left of it after a red-eye flight) in an Airbnb in Barcelona, the three of you hired a Lyft to Europcar to pick up the SUV that Chanyeol had pre-booked for the Costa Brava - Seville - Cuéllar itinerary. What you’d gathered from your several conversations with Chanyeol after that serendipitous coffee date was that each of the three friends had handpicked an adventure sport to try out in these places.

Chanyeol had chosen scuba diving in the rugged coast of Costa Brava with its spectacular cliffs and countless coves. Kyungsoo had appositely picked out an adventure sport involving throwing oneself out of an airplane thousands of feet above ground a.k.a. skydiving in Seville, the capital of Andalusia, resting, wise and old, upon the Guadalquivir river. And Yixing, bless his heart, had wanted to take part in a bull run in Cuéllar that takes place on the last Sunday of August each year.

Twirling the car key on his finger, Chanyeol, dressed in baggy black shorts, a loose fitting purple tee, super dark oversized shades and a snapback cap worn backwards, strongly resembled that ‘smiling face with the sunglasses’ emoji as he walked out of the booking office with Kyungsoo following closely behind. All set to catch a few winks in the rear seat comfort of the SUV, you pulled down the brim of your sunhat but suddenly, a blur of turquoise swooped past you, capturing your attention. Your drowsy eyes wrestled the summer sun to land upon a gorgeous turquoise Buick convertible swerving around the parking area before coming to a fashionable halt. A portly, bespectacled man stepped out of the vehicle and deposited its key with the booking office.

This was it.

This was the car ideal for a road trip, not some mafia boss’ kidnapping vehicle.

The essence of time dawned upon you so you trotted to where the Buick was parked and went down on your knees, hands folded in an implicit plea. The two men, startled at first, were quick to realize what was up.

Kyungsoo fixed you with a judgemental gaze that wasn’t any different from a mother’s fed-up of her child’s tantrums while Chanyeol broke into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. Shoulders hunched under the weight of his tan leather backpack, Kyungsoo crammed his hands into the pockets of his khaki pants and sighed, “The SUV’s more practical.”

With a twinkle in your eye, you exclaimed, “Screw practical! Just look at it! It’s a convertible and we’re on a road trip!”

Grinning from ear to ear, Chanyeol advanced towards you gingerly. “Shifu, my love-”

Jutting out your lower lip, you crossed your arms over your chest and whined, “Don’t call me that after you’ve ditched me for Miss Perfect Hair!” causing Kyungsoo to roll his eyes which distracted you from Chanyeol’s stealth attack.

All of a sudden, the beanpole leapt at you, maneuvered you like he would a balloon sculpture, tucked his arms under your knees, picked you up and shoved you in the backseat of the dreary black vehicle with sun shades on windows darker than Kyungsoo’s soul. With Chanyeol’s finger pressing down on the ridge between your eyebrows, you laid down on your back, sulking, “Some road trip this is. Can I atleast drive?”

Before slamming the car door shut, he teased, “Take a nap.”

And...you tried.

Forty five minutes into the drive, you tried so hard to make up for the red-eye flight but Kyungsoo’s phone Just. Wouldn’t. Stop. Ringing. To make matters worse, he sounded like a broken record parroting the words ‘margin call’, ‘shorting’, ‘S’, ‘B’, ‘stop loss’ over and over again. The same damn thing, every single time.

“Enough Kyungsoo! We’re on a vacation, dude,” Chanyeol chided, the almost indiscernible crack in his voice indicative of his annoyance.

Leaning back into his seat, Kyungsoo bragged, “The last thirty seconds earned me enough commission to be able to buy at least five bags of the kind I bought Aera yesterday.”

“Now, why would you buy Aera a bag?” Chanyeol asked, a hint of suspicion evident in his tone. The sounds of their voices had been mercilessly thwarting your attempts at a peaceful slumber but, this was different. The lack of response from Kyungsoo seemed to have piqued your interest. Your eyes fluttered open to a one eighty shift in Chanyeol’s mood. Brows knit together, his fingers impatiently drummed on the steering wheel as you both waited for Kyungsoo’s answer with a bated breath. But in his stead, it was his stupid phone that broke the silence.

Wide eyes fixated on the screen, Kyungsoo suddenly cried out, “Stop the car!”.

“What?!”

“Stop the car, Chanyeol!”

Letting out an exasperated groan, Chanyeol rashly veered the car to the right before hitting the brakes, causing you to nearly roll off your seat. Kyungsoo darted out of the vehicle and the next thing you knew, he stood facing the hood of the vehicle, his laptop perched atop the bonnet and his life support cellphone clutched in one hand.

Bowing to the screen, he greeted, “Moshi Moshi!”

“Is he taking  a work call right now?” you mused.

Chanyeol snorted, “That’s Doh Kyungsoo for you.”

Chuckling softly, you squished your face against the back of Chanyeol’s seat and groused, “Well, along with loony, your friend seems to be fluent in Japanese.”

“Yah! Cut him some slack. He’s had a rough couple of weeks,” explained Chanyeol, wrestling with a bag of chips in his hands.

“Yeollie -”

It was on the tip of your tongue.

You wanted to tell Chanyeol about your encounter with Kyungsoo on the rooftop but there was no way you could explain your own presence in the first place. To make matters worse, you were the worst liar you knew. So, you decided it was a story that best remained untold for your own sake, your mother’s and inadvertently, Kyungsoo’s.

“Yeah?”

“Can I have a chip?” you asked instead.

“All yours!”

“I’ll have just one, thanks.”

“You alright, Shifu?” Chanyeol slurred around a mouthful of chips, “Is there anything you need?”

“A nap would be nice,” you jested while nibbling at the edges of the deep fried snack.

“Aww, sleepyhead, we’ll be there in an hour.”

Humming in agreement, you reached for another chip and cooed, “Are you alright, Yeol? What’s with the whole ‘bag for Aera’ situation?”

Chanyeol’s head spun around to give you a warm, dimpled smile. “Don’t worry. It’s not what you’re thinking.”

You couldn’t help but notice how he had wolfed down an entire packet of chips in a matter of minutes along with a can of some neon and black fizzy drink. A distant memory of Chanyeol guzzling an entire bottle of water in three seconds for shits and giggles back in Uni stretched your lips in a wistful smile.

By then, Kyungsoo was done with his twenty minute long call against the quaint cerulean and stone backdrop of fishing villages by the coast. Who needs a virtual background when you’re surrounded by coves of deep blue sea and beaches of golden sand? As he reached for the car door, you whispered in Chanyeol’s ear, “One more call and I’m chucking his phone out the window.”

Grinning mischievously as he fastened his seatbelt, Chanyeol sang, “Oh, Shifu, I’ve missed youuuu!”

The moment Kyungsoo stepped inside, a tangible gloom proliferated in the enclosed space. Chanyeol started the car and you quietly curled up in the backseat. Kyungsoo’s head spun around, round eyes blazing with conviction. Pointing towards the trunk, he said, “Do you see that cloth bag on top of Chanyeol’s trolley?”

“This one?” you asked, hoisting yourself up on one elbow, your arm carelessly flapping all over the luggage before landing on said cloth bag with a dull thump.

“Hand it over, please,” winced Kyungsoo, “Be gentle, it’s a gift.”

Passing him his precious ‘gift’, you let out an annoyed huff and laid down again, facing the backrest. But curiosity got the better of you. You immediately turned back around to see what this ‘gift’ looked like.

Kyungsoo loosened the strings of the canvas tote to reveal a black Birkin Cargo. Soft and lightweight, it was supposed to be Hermès first off-road bag. Your droopy eyes flew open in awe of its high-brow craftsmanship and it was certainly a thoughtful gift for a bride-to-be. If this gift was meant for you, you were sure to forgive any and all of his crimes but the bag didn’t seem to have the same kind of effect on Chanyeol.

The air was still thick with tension.

Gaze fixed on Chanyeol’s profile, Kyungsoo murmured, “I didn’t want to do this now.”

Eyes on the road, “Spill,” grunted Chanyeol, as if expecting the obvious.

“This is an ‘I’m sorry’ gift for Aera,” started Kyungsoo before lowering his voice to a whisper, “I picked it up from duty free last night...it’s fifteen times Yixing’s annual agricultural income.”

Chanyeol clicked his tongue in disapproval at Kyungsoo’s snide remark.

“What do you want to apologize to her for?” he then asked with a deep sigh.

“I- I can’t make it to the wedding,” said Kyungsoo, faltering in his otherwise steadfast speech.

“Why?” quizzed Chanyeol in a terrifyingly cool tone while anger started to rise within you. Why he allowed this midget to walk all over him was beyond you. Didn’t he have better friends?

“I pushed back an important appointment for this trip. It was either Spain or the wedding. And since you insisted on Spain...”

Furious, Chanyeol struck the steering wheel with his palm. With the rattle of the metal strap of his Rolex reverberating in the car, he bellowed, “The actual fuck, Doh Kyungsoo?!” 

“What?! I said I’m sorry!”

“No, you didn’t! Besides, ‘sorry’ doesn’t fix anything! You’re supposed to be my best man - are- are you listening to yourself right now?!”

Chewing on the insides of his cheeks, Kyungsoo patiently waited for his friend to simmer down. After a pregnant pause, Chanyeol resumed reasoning with him, his tone evidently milder this time, “Okay, okay, talk to me. Does this appointment have to be on the exact same day as the ceremony?”

“No, it doesn’t and...it isn’t,” Kyungsoo explained before hurriedly requesting, “Can we do this later?”

Chanyeol took a sharp right turn along the tapering road and brought the car to a screeching halt. Brows furrowed, lips quirked in an angry smirk, he looked Kyungsoo straight in the eyes and you felt as if the air conditioner had suddenly started meting out the chilliest of blows.

“No, I want to talk about it right now! So, tell me. What’s more important than your best friend’s wedding?”

Kyungsoo took off his glasses, threw his head back and pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “Chanyeol, please -”

“No, I need to know!”

“Then remember it was you who wanted to have this conversation on the first day of our trip,” he stated curtly.

“Enough with the drama Kyungsoo!” Chanyeol’s roar rang through the car.

“FINE!” Kyungsoo grumbled, “I got a job offer from the London office and...I accepted. I leave a week after we’re back in Seoul….since it’s a new position I cannot fly back for the wedding. And I would’ve...I- I was going to fly back for the wedding had it not been for this trip.”

“So you decided to leave. Forever. Just like that. Without even talking to me about it first.” Chanyeol thought out loud, his tone tellingly casual.

Looking out the window, Kyungsoo whispered audibly, “There’s nothing left for me in Seoul.”

Without another word, Chanyeol started the car.

Putting his glasses back on, Kyungsoo threw his hands up and argued, “So you’re not going to say anything?!”

Chanyeol cranked up the volume on the car’s stereo in response, leaving Kyungsoo tongue-tied.

***

Ten minutes into the drive, Kyungsoo’s phone blew up for, conservatively, the fifteenth time. But before he could even swipe to answer, Chanyeol lowered the car window, plucked his phone out of his hand and chucked it into the shrubbery by the roadside and continued to drive at an accelerated speed.

Kyungsoo’s mouth fell open but no words came out and unbeknownst to you, you were mirroring the dazed look on his face.

Chanyeol stuck his thumb out to where you were seated and justified indifferently, “It was her idea.”

.

.

.

It wasn’t a house. It was a warzone.

The spacious three bedroom apartment had invisible borders drawn out and nobody dared to encroach upon the other’s territory.

After arriving in Costa Brava, the three of you settled in and freshened up before heading out for a scheduled theoretical lesson on scuba diving conducted by your PADI certified instructor. The lesson had ended sometime around sunset and through the entire thing, you acted like complete strangers, making it more awkward than necessary for the twenty something instructor.

After the lesson, Kyungsoo offered to drive the trio to a boutique hotel, Hostal Sa Rascassa’s restaurant, which was supposed to be located on the edges of a tranquil, secluded cove and served traditional sea-food centric dishes like -

“- grilled sardines, cod fishcakes and octopus stewed with onion and pepper,” Kyungsoo counted on his fingers, making your stomach growl and your mouth water.

Chanyeol brushed him aside with a bitter, “I’m not hungry.”

Turning to you, Kyungsoo asked politely, “Wanna come?”

From the corner of your eye, you noticed Chanyeol shooting you a death glare so you decided to wriggle out of the situation by citing tiredness.

Kyungsoo lifted his shoulders in a dismissive shrug and took off in a taxi, leaving the car to the two of you.

“Where do you wanna eat?” Chanyeol asked as you got into the passenger’s seat.

Slack jawed, you chastised a giggling Chanyeol, “Yeollie, you’re absolutely horrible!”

.

.

.

It had been months.

Months since Natasha had walked out of their shared apartment.

And ever since then, every night, the moment Kyungsoo’s head would hit the pillow, a sense of hopelessness would erupt right in the middle of his chest. Spreading its wings far and wide, this despair would engulf him entirely and render him sleepless.

Nothing he tried helped his disposition so he’d started working on accepting this feeling as an inextricable part of his being. Something he’d have to learn to live with for the rest of his life.

Overcome by exhaustion, Kyungsoo drifted off only to be jolted awake by a jarring memory.

Hands balled into fists, Natasha yelled, ‘HOW COULD YOU DO THIS?’

‘This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, Natasha! This deal could help us!’ Kyungsoo thundered in the face of her dogged determination to not let this slide.

‘Can’t you see that I don’t care?’ She met his bloodshot eyes with tears welling in hers.

Brows knit together, Kyungsoo ruminated on his thoughts before firing back, ‘Are you saying that you don’t care about my life?’

Exasperated, Natasha ran a hand through her hair to ground herself and argued, ‘Stop it, Kyungsoo! Don’t confuse your work with your life! Your work isn’t your life. It’s just a part of it. WHAT ABOUT US?’

‘Us?’ Kyungsoo deliberated, ‘I bought this apartment so that we could live together.’

Natasha retracted with every step Kyungsoo took towards her, expression coloured in unpleasant shades of anger and disgust.  Letting out a mirthless laugh, she taunted, ‘Oh, please! You bought this apartment to impress people with your upmarket address.’

Aghast, Kyungsoo sank into the couch, his mind flitting between despair and hope. Head in his hands, breathing jagged and raspy, he reasoned, ‘I can’t believe you’re saying this to me! I’m planning a future with you.’

‘The future is yet to come, Kyungsoo. WHAT ABOUT OUR PRESENT?’

‘STOP YELLING!’

‘THEN LISTEN TO ME!’

Hands on his knees, Kyungsoo’s gaze shot up to rest upon Natasha’s flushed face. ‘What do you want?’ He demanded in a terrifyingly low tone.

A silent tear slid down her cheek as she explained with a quiver in her voice, ‘I want your time, Kyungsoo. I want a relationship not a retirement plan.’

Helpless, Kyungsoo toyed with the words in his mind before blurting, ‘If the chairman of Nakamura Corporation wants to meet me then I have- to- go! If he likes the presentation, he’ll give us the entire account. Don’t you see how big this is for me?’

‘But what about us, Kyungsoo? What about our dinner plan?’

‘We can postpone it to next month, can’t we?!’

‘It’s my birthday, Soo. I can’t postpone my birthday. You’d promised me this dinner...no matter what! You cancelled the reservation without even asking me first.’

Cupping her face in his hands, he pressed his lips to hers and whispered, ‘Baby, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry...but I have to go.’

.

.

.

When you padded into the living room, sleep befuddled at 5 a.m., you caught Chanyeol and Kyungsoo locked in an embrace, both of their eyes squeezed shut, as if wordlessly conveying an incredible degree of warmth and affection towards each other.

All of it….in “bro code”.

You imagined the conversation in your head, in two deep, distinct male voices:

‘I’m sorry I threw your phone out the window, bro!’

‘It’s what I deserved, bro!’

Rubbing away the drowsiness from your eyes, you tiptoed back into your room so as to not disrupt this….whatever this was supposed to be.

***

Underneath the purple-pink skies, enveloped in the cool early morning breeze, Kyungsoo, Chanyeol, and you, dressed in spandex scuba suits, huddled together in solidarity on the boat’s bulwark.

The diving site that Chanyeol had picked was called ‘Boreas Wreck’. The Boreas was a high sea tugboat that served for the German Navy during World War II. It was deliberately sunk in 1989 for the purpose of creating an artificial reef and thus, a scuba diving attraction.

“Any non-swimmers?” the trainer asked and Kyungsoo’s hand shot up in the air.

Her full lips curled up in a dazzling smile. “You’re brave,” she remarked and you heard Kyungsoo swallow hard, inviting a snigger from Chanyeol.

Hands on hips, her perfect figure accentuated by the spandex, she instructed, “You will be diving deep into this sea now, do you remember the theoretical part I taught you on the shore?”

Chanyeol and you were confident (and loud) in your affirmation.

Kyungsoo, not so much.

With the bulky dive equipment on, the instructor created a circle with her thumb and forefinger, gesturing, “All okay?”

The three of you responded by following suit.

First dive, twelve metres depth.

You’d become the proverbial fish out of water except you were not the fish and you were under water and your whole world had been turned upside down….quite literally.

You spun around to find the instructor assisting Chanyeol with his breathing rhythm and Kyungsoo curled up like a shrimp, hugging his knees. Arm extended, he gave you a “thumbs up” which meant an entirely different thing under water from what it did on land.

Thumbs up, in diving lingo, spelled trouble. It meant that, for whatever reason, the diver wished to ascend. But, by then, you’d known Kyungsoo long enough to understand that there was no real cause for concern.

The look in his eyes told you that he was simply struggling to adapt.

You swam towards him, with your legs and not your arms, in order to maintain good buoyancy control. Clasping your hands together in a mitten grasp, you signalled him to hold onto you. Kyungsoo created a circle with his thumb and forefinger to signal “okay” before putting his hand on your forearm, the soft ripples caused by his gentle movements gleaming in the artificial light from your gear.

You then raised your other arm and flattened your hand, palm down, to “pat” the water in front of you as you would the head of a dog. Wearing a comforting eye smile, you essentially asked Kyungsoo to take it easy and relax. You then levelled your hand with his eyes, palm facing up before drawing a deep breath, wordlessly asking Kyungsoo to breathe slow, deep and long.

Another nod. Another “okay”.

He then pointed his index finger to his ear, the gesture indicating that he couldn’t clear his ears and had trouble equalizing. So you locked your eyes with his and took his elbows in your hands to pull him up to ascend slightly before quickly pushing him down again while wondering whether he’d paid attention to the theoretical lessons at all.

He squeezed his eyes shut before giving you another nod which meant that the equalization was a success.

Kyungsoo’s thumb and forefinger met in another “okay” but this time with an eye smile which you reciprocated with an “okay” before snapping your fingers into a teasing finger heart.

All traces of agreeableness instantly vanished from his visible features.

***

The deeper you went, your fluo green spectrum widened, whelming you with the underwater world’s tranquil beauty which neutralized the shooting pain in your ears and the violent thumping of your heart. Corals in the shape of giant mushrooms floated around you and sea urchins greeted you with their bright purple-brown spikes glowing under the ocean’s natural light. At your feet, a shy goby fish with its large head and tapered body tunneled its way into the sand upon sensing the arrival of strangers.

While you were immersed in this exquisite scenery, a wide eyed Kyungsoo grabbed your attention by waving at you, his hand holding a pink fin.

‘That fin looks familiar,’ you thought before realizing it was your fin that had released itself from your right foot. You almost choked from laughing with the regulator on and the mask attached to your face as Kyungsoo helped you stick it back on.

Having been privy to breathtaking videos and countless stories of the mysteries and magic of the underwater world, a first-hand experience felt surreal. You were quick to adapt to the environment and didn’t try to fight it or control it and your first breath under water had been an experience like no other.

The Boreas Wreck was home to a number of incredible marine species such as Mediterranean sponges and blue gorgonians, scorpionfish, sea urchins, starfish, goatfish, mullets, bream, lobsters, groupers, and barracuda. While you couldn’t pindown all the enticing, drop dead gorgeous palettes of reds, blues, and yellows that crossed paths with you, shoaling, schooling...or even solitary, it didn’t take away from the sheer awe you were overcome with at every second of your time several azure and viridian metres below the surface of land.

The instructor then guided the three of you inside the boat’s wreck, which was safe to enter since all hazardous items had been removed before Boreas was scuttled. With an excited Chanyeol in the lead per usual, you visited some of its confined rooms, and went further in to explore the kitchen, the engine room, the bridge and even the captain’s cabin. The dilapidated metal and wood body of the civil boat, covered almost entirely in sea fauna, was nothing short of a beautiful nightmare.

Traversing, you reached one corner of the boat basked in a blinding white light, enveloping you in a gentle embrace. Emotions so carefully locked away came flooding through the dam of your forced stoic indifference. Giving in, you stretched your arms out, allowing yourself to freefall into a distant memory.

Haphazardly flapping your arms and legs, you struggled to keep your head up but no matter how hard you tried, the pool water made its way into your mouth, nose, and eyes, even.

‘Appa!’ you managed loudly as you felt yourself drowning again.

Your Appa was the one who always came to your rescue.

No matter where you were, no matter how bad things got. He was always there. So when he just stood there, a smile on his face, watching you grapple with a force that mercilessly dragged you down while you kicked and punched and floundered to stay afloat...a mysterious emotion rose within you.

You felt betrayed by the man who was supposed to have your back.

Seething, ‘Appa!’ you bawled, but to no avail.

Until...magically...you didn’t need his help anymore.

After days of relentless torture, you’d finally found yourself moving forward, cutting through the water with synchronized movements of your arms and legs.

But the exhilaration hadn’t lasted long.

A couple of minutes in and you realized that that force was winning again but this time, you didn’t drown.

This time a familiar pair of hands grabbed you before you went under and threw you up in the air as your misty eyes took in the biggest smile on your father’s face with an equally big one gracing your bright features.

Circling his arms around your tiny torso, he nestled you into himself.

‘My champion!’ he whispered into your swim cap covered ear.

***

Back on the boat, with your diving gear off and fresh towels wrapped around your shoulders, you sank to your knees, completely wracked with sobs.

You felt a million emotions, all at once, the reigning one being embarrassment at this sudden outburst. With his arms around you and his chin resting on the top of your head, Chanyeol whispered, ‘It’s okay, it’s alright,’ to ground you while gently rocking you back and forth until you’d let it all out. Turning around, you buried your face into the crook of his neck as if to hide away from the inquisitive eyes of Kyungsoo and the instructor. Chanyeol held you closer, his hand stroking the back of your neck in silent support.

.

.

.

Even after a sumptuous lunch of salmon canapes, baked scallops, rice with spiny spider crab, mixed seafood finger foods complete with a chocolate semi sphere, Chanyeol was uncharacteristically quiet and Kyungsoo, uncharacteristically amiable.

“Feels a little morbid to be eating all this seafood after a dive,” you jested with a serious expression, nibbling on a piece of dark chocolate. And it was only then that the boys went back to being their true selves. Amused, Chanyeol guffawed, “Good to have you back!” while Kyungsoo choked on his sparkling white wine.

Shortly after, Chanyeol excused himself to make a call to Aera.

Kyungsoo ordered two coffees for the both of you and you noticed how he kicked about a conversation starter in his head as opened his mouth only to clamp it shut several times, before finally mustering, “I just want to say -”

“No,” you interrupted him in a mortified haste, “no, please don’t say anything I don’t wanna talk about it except, I’m really sorry for making it so awkward for you guys back there.”

“Oh, no,” he gave you a dismissive wave of hand, “it was just Chanyeol, me, and...erm...the pretty instructor who we’ll never see again. Chanyeol makes a complete ass out of himself every waking hour and as for me, please don’t worry about me. Especially not after you found me blind drunk on a rooftop in the dead of night. We all have our moments. I’m sorry,” he suddenly stopped short, expression solemn, “you said you didn’t wanna talk about it.”

You chuckled, teasing, “Pretty instructor, huh?”

This was the longest conversation you’d had with Kyungsoo so far and truth be told, you were caught off guard by... his smile. His resting face was a natural frown, mostly due to his poor eyesight. And in your experience, if he had his glasses on, it was Chanyeol who was the primary reason for his scowl, with you being a close second.

It took you a moment to take in that dazzling, heart shaped smile of his before you could speak again but it was Kyungsoo who lugged the conversation forward.

“I just wanted to thank you for what you did for me back there. I think I felt a little overwhelmed by the,” he pondered his thoughts before concluding, “the vastness of the ocean. Sorry, I’m no poet.”

“Don’t mention it,” you smiled, “How did you feel by the end of it?”

“Umm,” Kyungsoo ruminated on your question, “I felt like I was in the moment...like, reaching a stage of subtle awareness from surface awareness.”

“And you say you’re not a poet,” you quipped, “So, like, meditation?”

“Maybe. It felt as if I was letting go of...of all the emotional baggage -” he trailed off rather plaintively.

Voice laced with hesitance, you sang, “So….maybe…you’ll sleep better tonight?”

Clearly taken aback by your question, Kyungsoo exclaimed, “What?!”

“I’m sorry but, it’s very obvious that you haven’t been sleeping too well.”

Thick eyebrows scrunched together, he let out a confused ‘Oh!’

“Did Chanyeol -” he continued, only to be interrupted by a booming, cheerful voice, “Think of the angel and the angel appears!”

Kyungsoo looked up at a beaming Chanyeol and deadpanned,  “That’s not how the saying goes. Anyway, what took you so long?”

Eyes holding a glint of humour, Chanyeol placed a neatly wrapped iPhone box in front of Kyungsoo and took the dramatics up a notch with a stage performer-esque curtsey thus inviting amused stares from the nearby tables in the courtyard style restaurant. Kyungsoo unwrapped the packaging with the eagerness of a five year old on Christmas Eve and to his disappointment, instead of the high end handphone, he opened the case to a hot pink flip phone.

Kyungsoo let out a low growl, “The fuck is this?”

Standing at a safe distance from his fuming friend, Chanyeol quipped, “A phone,” while making no effort to suppress his laughter.

“Thank you, Mr. State The Obvious, but I’m an adult male, not a Japanese schoolgirl!”

Tickled by his own little prank, Chanyeol threw you under the bus by triumphantly howling, “It was Shifu’s idea!” before darting out of the premises.

Dumbfounded, you exclaimed, “WHAT?! NO!” as Kyungsoo fixed you with a death glare.

.

.

.

‘When were you going to tell me about this?’

Maybe this was one of your endless nightmares.

Maybe this wasn’t happening at all.

Your mother deflected your question by putting things away. Dirty dishes in the washer, clothes in the dryer, leftovers in the fridge, while you followed her around like a lost puppy, a crumpled, time stained letter held delicately in your hand.

The throbbing in your head now bordering on numbness, bile rising up your throat, your legs threatening to give away, you reiterated your question, vociferously this time, surprised at your own power of will. A quality that forever eluded you. The inability to voice your needs, your opinions, masked under a not so thinly veiled sense of self deprecating humour was...you, in a nutshell. This sudden surge of fighting spirit consuming you whole felt alien but at the same time, very natural and, at the same time, it was taking a toll on every nerve, every muscle, every bone.

Every second felt like your last.

‘Would she be able to handle it all over again?’ crestfallen, you mused, ‘The grief. The sympathy. The cumulation of my life -- all these decades condensed into a tiny vessel of ever fading memories. The sands of time trickling through her wrinkled fingers.’

‘Eomma, please -’ you cried out, only for your plea to fall upon deaf ears.

It wasn’t until the next morning that she spoke to you again.

Bloodshot eyes framed by the weight of living, she handed you a warm cup of tea and let out a deep sigh.

‘He never wanted you. It was your Appa who accepted me...he accepted us… It’s been three days since your Appa -,’ wracked with sobs, it took her a while to compose herself to be able to speak again, ‘don’t dishonour his memory.’

‘Why should I believe a word you say? Why should I believe that- that my own father never wanted me?’

[karahalloway]

(Un)Common Attraction: Chapter 16 - Escape Plan

Series: TRR (following the events of Book 1, with some changes)

Pairing: Drake Walker x OC (Harper Gale)

Rights belong to Pixelberry, most characters and some dialogue belong to them.

Book Synopsis: Harper Gale is a small-town girl working as a waitress at a seedy New York dive bar. After a chance encounter with nobility sees her jetting halfway around the world to compete for the hand of the Prince of Cordonia, her dream of seeing the world starts to come true sooner than she expected. But as the completion heats up, Harper quickly learns that life at court is a lot more than just pretty dresses and fancy balls, and that the polished aristocratic smiles often hide deceit. Does she have what it takes to rise above the gossip and intrigue of the social season, and beat the nobles at their own games? And, more importantly, does she actually want to become the queen of a small European country? Or will her heart have other ideas?

Masterlist: (Un)Common Attraction

Chapter Summary: Back in the capital, Harper concocts a plan to sneak down into the city for a well-deserved break... but she gets more than she bargained for when she ropes in an accomplice to help!

Word Count: 5,200

Rating/Warnings: M (swearing)

Chapter theme song:

Please read: Author’s Note

Also available on Wattpad.

Chapter 16 - Escape Plan

The next morning, we all have a late breakfast before packing up and cramming into the waiting cars to begin the three-hour drive back to the capital.

"So," I say, settling back into my seat. "What's next on the social calendar?"

"The Royal Regatta, followed by the best beach party ever!" croons Maxwell from the front seat. "Though it's not for a couple of days, which means we have a chance to recuperate from our snowy adventures first."

"Regatta..." I muse. "Is that something to do with boats?"

"If you want to call a 50-foot cruising yacht a 'boat'..." remarks Drake with a sidelong glance.

"Hey, cut me some slack," I retort. "I grew up in Montana – a state that's known for big sky, mining, and cowboys. Quite similar to Texas, actually, except we don't have access to the Gulf of Mexico, being landlocked and all. So, excuse me if I don't know – or care – much about boats."

"No need to bite my head off about it," mutters Drake. "I'm just sayin’ – don't call anything bigger than a rowboat a 'boat' in front of the aristos, or you’ll never hear the end of it."

"Point noted," I concede. Turning back to Maxwell, I ask, "So, does that mean that we actually have some free time when we get back to the Palace?"

"I believe Bertrand wants to continue your training on how to be a proper lady..."

"Oh, screw that!" I scoff. "We've been going non-stop since I arrived in Cordonia. Can't I just go and explore the city, tan on the beach, and do some normal touristy things for a change, instead of galloping from one social fixture to another? I mean, I've been here over a week now, and I haven't seen anything of the city apart from the Palace and that bakery we got cronuts from."

"I am not sure Bertrand would like the idea of you wandering around the city without an escort," says Maxwell. "Cordonia is a small country and people follow the affairs of the royal family very closely. Since you are one of the suitors competing for the Prince's hand, you are somewhat of a celebrity now, which means that you will be recognised if you venture into the city."

"So, you're saying that I can't leave the Palace?" I gasp in disbelief. "For the next two days?"

"If you would like to see the city, I could discuss with Bertrand the possibility of organising a private sightseeing tour for you, so you could sample some of the treasures that the city has to offer. We could sell it to him as a cultural enrichment experience. But I am afraid that going out on your own is not an option."

"We'll see about that..." I huff under my breath, as I stare grumpily out the window.

* * *

The next morning, I am up and fully dressed by the crack of dawn, sneaking down the hallway to enact Phase 1a of my plan to go down into the city unsupervised.

Despite Maxwell's warning yesterday, I had no intention of moping around the Palace for the next two days, much less listen to Bertrand drone on about the correct way to sip soup without slurping, especially when he could be the one behind the bachelor party photos. I knew that Maxwell's heart had been in the right place, and he was only concerned about my safety and well-being, but I seriously doubted that I would be ambushed by hordes of adoring fans, especially if my escape plan went according to...well, plan.

Since the Beaumonts liked to start my day at an ungodly hour, I knew that if my plan was to have any chance of success, I had to make myself scarce before they showed up. Arriving at what I sincerely hoped was the correct door (otherwise I would have to come up with one hell of a story to explain why I was door busting at 5am!), I try the handle and find that it is unlocked.

Even though the Palace's occupants were still sound asleep, I knew that the staff started their rounds early, and I did not want to be caught sneaking into someone else's room by an overzealous maid. So, checking the corridor one more time to make sure that the coast was clear, I quickly let myself into the room and close the door quietly behind me.

Phase 1a accomplished! Now onto Phase 1b.

Turning around, I scan my surroundings while I let my eyes adjust to the gloom. While the size and shape of the room is similar to mine, it has a much more personal and lived-in feel, reflecting the tastes and habits of its inhabitant.

Walking towards the four-poster bed, I can see that the maid who I had managed to flag down yesterday had provided me with the correct directions, and I am (thankfully!) in the right room and its occupant is still fast asleep.

"Rise and sh—"

Without warning, I am wrenched forward by the arm and find myself sprawled unceremoniously on the other side of the bed. Before I even have a chance to squeak in protest, my wrists are in a vice-like hold above my head, and my hips are immobilised by a heavy weight.

I feel a forearm press into the back of my neck, pinning me to the bed, as a low growl penetrates the sound of the erratic thudding of my pulse in my ears.

"Give me one good reason why I sh—"

"Drake!" I cry, spitting strands of hair from my mouth. "It's me!"

"Harper! Sweet Jesus..." he gasps, quickly climbing off me and flicking on his bedside light.

Rolling over, I gulp when I see that he had been sleeping in only his boxers and that his normally unimpressive attire actually hid a seriously noteworthy physique. The dim glow of the bedside light emphasised the smooth panes of his pectoral muscles, contrasting them against the shadows cast by the hard lines of his sinewy shoulders and the ridges of his abs that were visible even though he was slouched forward.

To say that Drake worked out was an understatement... By the look of him, he worked the gym equipment, rather than the other way around!

"What the hell where you thinking?" he demands angrily, his voice cutting through my thoughts like a knife. "I... I could've hurt you..."

"First Christian and now you?" I grumble, sitting up and massaging my wrists where he had gripped them. "Is there anyone in this place who hasn't been trained by Jason Bourne?"

His eyes widen. “You tried to sneak up on Chris? When?"

"At the Derby," I reply. "I thought it would be fun to surprise him when I walked into the tent, but that went seriously sideways..."

"He didn't hurt you, did he?" he asks quietly, the softness of his tone bellying a dangerous edge. "Because if he did..."

"No, not really," I say quickly. The last thing I needed was for Drake to march into Christian's room at this hour to beat him up on my account. "I was just caught by surprise at how fast he moved."

"Then what the hell made you decide that it would be a good idea to try the same thing on me?" he asks incredulously. "My dad was the head of the King's Guard, remember? You didn't stop to think that maybe I would've picked up a thing or two from him?"

I open my mouth in retort, but quickly close it, realising that he is right. I had immaturely thought that I could sneak into Drake's bedroom and simply wake him up like any other person. While I had expected him to be a somewhat caught off guard at my unexpected appearance, I had not considered that he would respond to my presence as a threat to be neutralised, and that he could have seriously ended up hurting me.

"No..." I admit, feeling like a total dumbass.

"Hey," he says, lifting my face gently with his fingers. "It's alright. Just... don't do something like this again."

Glancing up, I am suddenly all too aware of his shirtless proximity, and that it was starting to make me feel hot under the collar. Especially since it brought to mind the hot tub episode with Christian from a few nights ago.

Though, if I was honest, Drake put even Christian to shame in the pecs and abs department. I almost wanted to reach out and touch him, to convince myself that it was all real, and not just spray-painted on.

I shake my head to swiftly dispel those thoughts.

"Erm, could...could you put on a shirt or something...?"

Drake glances down at his bare chest. "Oh, right. Sure."

Quickly scooting off the bed, he disappears into what I am guessing was his walk-in closet, emerging a few seconds later wearing a faded T-shirt and a pair of athletic shorts.

"Marvel fan, are we?" I ask, catching sight of the Captain America shield emblazoned on his top.

"Oh. Yeah," he grins self-consciously, sitting down on the bed again, a bit further away from me this time. "You?"

"You could say that," I admit, glad for the momentary distraction offered by the mundane conversation. "The Avengers movies were a damn sight better than the Justice League ones. Can't say that I've read any of the comics though..."

"Shame. Some of them are quite good actually. The comics, I mean."

"I'll take your word for it," I smile. "I prefer big girl chapter books myself."

"Hey! Don't diss comics!" he warns. "Some of them have chapters too."

I snort in amusement.

Looking up I can see Drake grinning as well.

"Anyway..." I say, tucking my hair behind my ear. "You are probably wondering why I'm here."

"I'm quite sure it's not because you had trouble sleeping," he mutters in a tone that makes me flush all over again.

"No," I say firmly. "I'm here because I want you to sneak me out of the Palace."

Drake stares at me like I've sprouted another head. "You can't be serious..."

"Oh, I am dead serious," I assure him. "You and Christian are the only two who know this Palace like the back of your hand, and can get me out of here without drawing attention to ourselves. But, for several obvious reasons, I can't ask Christian, so you're up, Kemo Sabe."

He fixes me with a dry look. “While I am flattered that you hold me in such high regard, why would you want to sneak out? There is a front door, y'know."

"You heard what Maxwell said in the car yesterday – he and Bertrand have no intention of letting me out of their sight. But I meant what I said about wanting to explore the city and I will be damned if I will let those two treat me like a fragile little princess just because they conned me into this stupid competition."

"Wait," interjects Drake, shaking his head in disbelief. "What do you mean they conned you?"

I scowl, regretting my choice of words. This was my problem, not Drake's. "Never mind. Just forget I said anything..."

"Gale," says Drake, crossing his arms. "If the Beaumonts are keeping you here under false pretenses, I want to know. Because if they are, I swear to God I'll—"

"What? Beat them to a pulp?"

"That's not what I meant, and you know it."

I assess him for a long moment.

He holds my gaze, unflinching.

I let out a resigned breath. "Fine. It's not like they... threatened me or anything. But, Maxwell did omitt certain key pieces of info about this competition, which, if I known about back in New York, would've probably made me think more than twice about getting on that plane."

"What kind of information?"

"Well, for one, they conveniently forgot to mention that once I was presented to the King as a suitor, I could not withdraw from the competition until it was over."

Now it’s Drake’s turn to frown. “You... want to withdraw? But you and Chris—"

I look down into my lap sheepishly. "I didn't really come here for Christian."

He is silent for a moment, processing this. “Then why...?"

"I thought Cordonia would be a good launchpad from which to explore the rest of Europe, given that I've always wanted to go travelling. So, when Maxwell invited me along for the social season, I said 'yes' because, honestly, it sounded a lot more fun than staying in New York, waiting tables at a dingy dive bar. And while I was curious to see where things went with Christian, I was never under any illusion that I had a serious chance in this competition... I mean, can you see me as Queen of Cordonia? A nobody from America?"

Drake is quiet as he regards me. "What else?" he asks eventually.

"They also didn't tell me that House Beaumont is broke, and that they want me to be Christian's pick because that would open up doors of opportunity for them to profit off, literally and metaphorically. So, even though I only met them like two weeks ago, I feel like the future of their house is resting on my shoulders and I will be the one responsible for their financial ruin if I don't win..."

I take a shuddering breath, realising that this is the first time that I had aired my thoughts and feelings about this whole competition... and how wronged and pressured I felt because the brothers Beaumont had not been upfront with me from the start.

"And, to complicate matters," I continue, my voice breaking, "Christian told me during the Snowball that he had already made up his mind and he wants to pick me at the end of this whole thing, even though he knows that I have so many reservations about becoming not only his wife, but the queen of an actual country. So, I... I just feel so trapped and I don't know what I'm going to do..."

"Jesus, Gale," huffs Drake, running a hand over his face in consternation. "I... I had no idea."

"Why would you?" I sniff, wiping the tears away with the back of my hand in annoyance.

It seemed like every time I talked to Drake recently, I ended up bawling my eyes out. Not very attractive, by any measure...

"Do you love him?"

"What?"

"Do you love Chris?"

"I... No," I admit. "And even if I did, I don't think it would be enough to make me agree to live a life that was not my own, constantly being under scrutiny and never again being able to just go out for a coffee without causing a media frenzy."

"Then it's simple," he declares. "You need to tell everyone to fuck off."

I snort. "Hah! Funny..."

"I'm serious," he insists, fixing me with a pointed look. "You need to put yourself first and stop thinking about what everyone else wants because you don't owe anybody anything. The Beaumonts created the financial mess that they're in, and it's not your responsibility to fix it for them. Chris may want you as his queen, but if you're not comfortable with that, then you need to tell him... and if he does not respect your choice, then he has no business being in your life."

"But it's not like I can just withdraw from the competition," I remind him. "So, wouldn't I be leading everyone on by continuing to take part in the events and spending time with Christian?"

"Who cares?" shrugs Drake. "If they feel led on, that's their problem, not yours. If your mind's made up, all you need to do is enjoy what's left of the season, and then you're free to do what you want. Now, let's go," he declares, getting up from the bed.

"What?" I gasp. "Where are we going?"

"Into the city," he throws back over his shoulder as he disappears into his bathroom.

I stare at the door with my mouth agape. When he emerges again, I say, "But I thought you said—"

"I never said I wasn't gonna help you..." he replies, striding back into the walk-in.

He emerges half a minute later dressed in well-worn boots, distressed jeans and a cotton button-down, sleeves rolled up, as per usual. There is some kind of bundle under his arm, but in the dim light I can't quite make out what it is.

"...I merely questioned your seriousness."

"You're impossible..." I mutter, though I can't help a smile from forming on my lips.

"Wouldn't want to disappoint now, would I?" he winks. "Now, come on. We've got a jailbreak to orchestrate."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, I am holding onto Drake for dear life as we rumble towards the city on an Indian Scout Bobber via a narrow service road that ran around the back of the Palace.

After checking that the coast outside his room was clear, Drake had led me through a maze of service corridors to the Palace's garage. Once there, he had zipped me into what turned out to be one of two leather biker jackets that he had brought with him, and plonked a helmet onto my head before revving up his dad's pride and joy.

I had never ridden a motorbike before, and I was not sure that I was particularly enjoying the experience. Especially given that Drake was taking the hairpin bends at breakneck speeds, leaning into the corners like a MotoGP contestant, testing the limits of the bike... and my sanity.

"Can you please slow down a bit?" I beg him for the dozenth time via the helmet's built-in intercom. "I really don't want to die..."

"Chillax, Gale," chuckles Drake. "I know what I'm doing."

"Well, I dooon't...!"

I scream as Drake revs the engine and pulls the bike up on its hind wheel for a second before dropping it back down and darting off again.

"You bastard!" I shriek, desperately wanting to pommel him, only I'm too terrified to even think about loosening the death grip I have on his jacket for fear that I'll tumble off.

Drake's laugh crackles over my earpiece. "Savs used to love this. Ever since she could talk, she would make Dad take her out for rides and kept asking him to go faster and faster. Drove Mom crazy, but Dad was always careful."

"Well, I'm with your mom on this one," I reply in a shaky voice. "She seems to be the only one in your family with a healthy sense of self-preservation."

"Yeah, Mom never really understood Dad's obsession with bikes. But, having grown up in rural Texas, his childhood was very different from hers."

"You said she's Cordonian?" I ask, latching onto the distraction offered by the conversation as the world continues to whip past us at the dizzying speed that Drake had set. Plus, I was interested in learning a bit more about Drake, given that he was a normally quite cagey about himself.

"Yeah, her family comes from a small farming community. So, they had that in common, him having grown up on a ranch and all. She moved to the city after school and worked as a secretary for various local organisations before landing a job at the Palace."

"How did they meet?"

"Dad was in the Army, stationed in Italy – he came to Cordonia with some of his buddies while on leave one time, met my Mom in a bar, fell in love, usual story. When his tour was over, he moved to Cordonia so they could be together and a few months later, they got married and then along came me and Savs."

"How did he end up becoming the head of the King's Guard?"

"Being a Palace secretary, Mom heard about the opening. With his military background, Dad was the perfect fit for the job and even though he was American, he rose quickly up the ranks, taking over as head of the Guard when his predecessor retired."

"So, why did your Mom move to Texas?"

Drake sighs quietly. "After Dad died, I guess she couldn't bear to stay at the Palace anymore. She said she kept seeing him everywhere, walking the corridors as if he were still alive, and it was just too much for her. So, she moved to Texas to live on Dad's family ranch. That way, she could still feel that he was with her, without the painful memories associated with the Palace."

"All by herself?"

"It... wasn't that simple," he admits. After a long pause, he adds, "Dad's parents had died a few years back, so his sister — my aunt Leona — was left running the ranch all by herself. But it was too much for one person to handle. So she asked Mom if she could move Stateside — with me and Savs — so we could help out."

"She didn't want to consider selling?"

Drake scoffs dryly. "Over her dead body. That ranch has been in the family since Texas has been a state. Six generations of Walkers are buried there — including Dad. It's never gettin' sold."

I nod solemnly. "So, if the ranch is so important to your family, why didn't you go with your mom?"

I feel his chest expand under my arms as he heaves a low exhale. "Because I was a stupid and selfish 16-year old? I dunno..."

I suck in a shocked breath. "Wait... You were 16? That means Savannah was—"

"She was 14."

"But... you were still kids. How could she—?"

"I wasn't. Age of majority here is 16."

"But your sister—"

"Mom made me her legal guardian before she left."

I feel my head drop against Drake's shoulder in a daze as I try to process this. No wonder Drake felt so responsible for his sister... and why he had taken her sudden departure like some kind of unforgivable dereliction of duty on his part. But I just couldn't wrap my head around how Drake's mom could leave her children like that...

"But... surely it would've been simpler and easier if she had taken you with her?"

"Probably. But like I said, I was a stupid, selfish teenager. I was in my second year of lycée — what they call high school here — I was captain of the school soccer team, just started dating some girl... I guess I didn't want to have to give all that up to move to a run-down ranch in the middle of nowhere. And since I was legally an adult, she couldn't make me go. And Savs felt the same — she loved living at the Palace, with all its pomp and circumstance. So, we told Mom and she could go if she wanted, but we were staying."

"How... did she take that?"

"Hard... initially. But, on whatever level, she understood where we were coming from. And as much as it sucked — for all of us — when she left, especially while we were still trying to deal with Dad not being there anymore, we had to respect each other's choices. Even if they were probably not the best ones."

This was definitely not the direction I had expect the conversation to take. But even more than that, I was surprised that Drake had decided to (once again) share something with me that was so personal and close to his chest.

I feel my arms tighten around him in a subconscious effort to make him feel better. Because it was evident that even after all this time, the events — and their consequences — still ate at him.

"But the bike stayed?" I ask, trying to steer the conversation back onto a lighter track.

"Yeah, the bike stayed." I can hear the bittersweet smile in his voice. "It was a piece of Dad that none of us wanted to get rid of. But Mom had no use for it, obviously, and Savs was more interested in ball gowns than motorbikes by that point. So, now I look after this bad boy."

"Well, I'm sure your dad is happy that it's being used and not just gathering dust in the garage."

"Yeah, I think so," he agrees. "Well, here we are."

Glancing up, I can see that Drake had pulled up at the edge of a large plaza flanked by an impressive basilica, a bell tower and another structure that looked like some kind of administrative building. At the centre of the square stood a stately fountain around the edge of which sat a motley collection of elderly people, hung-over tourists still up from the night before, and a flock of seagulls, all basking in the early morning sunshine.

I slide off the bike gingerly, my muscles tight after being held in the same position for so long by sheer terror. Pulling my helmet off, I hand it to Drake, who clips it to the bike along with his own before shoving the kickstand out with his foot.

"Aren't you worried that someone will take them?" I ask, indicating the helmets.

"Nah," says Drake, pulling off his gloves. "Dad was smart enough to register the bike under a royal plate. No one in their right mind is gonna even think about touching this thing with a ten-foot pole."

"Working for the royals has its perks then," I observe, pulling off my own gloves and unzipping my jacket. The leather had been a loose fit, given that it had been tailored for its owner's more muscular frame, but it had provided some welcome protection against the wind.

The day was promising to be a warm one, and after the cold weather up in Lythikos, I wanted to enjoy the heat of the sun on my skin. But as I slide the heavy leather off, I notice that it leaves behind a lingering scent of bergamot and cedar on my clothes.

"Shame it's warm out," remarks Drake, glancing at me as he unzips his own jacket. "Otherwise, we could've passed you off as a Hell's Angel."

I blush involuntarily, his implied compliment catching me off-guard. "I don't think the paps would fall for that, given how I am a bit short in tattoos and piercings department. And in any case… If you think that I'm getting on that deathtrap with you again, you are sorely mistaken, bud."

He quirks a brow. “How are you plannin’ on getting back to the Palace?"

"I'll walk," I declare.

"Oh, come now, Gale," he grins, stepping closer to me. "You can admit that you enjoyed it, even if it was just a lil’ bit."

"Enjoyed it?" I exclaim, lifting my hand to smack him on the chest.

He intercepts it easily before it lands. The breath catches in my throat as his warm fingers wrap around my palm, directing my hand harmlessly down, eyes not leaving mine. “Yeah. I think you did.”

Giving myself a mental shake, I narrow my eyes at him. "I've never been so scared in my life! Only a person with a serious death wish or a crazy adrenaline junkie could've enjoyed that!"

"Everything worth loving in life seems terrifying at first," he murmurs softly, his hand still cradling mine.

"Well, I wouldn't get my hopes up," I mutter, my entire arm atingle.

The feel of my hand in his and the physical proximity between us was wreaking havoc on my senses. Especially when I catch a whiff of the same aftershave that suffused his jacket, bringing to mind how he had felt when I had been curled around his body during the hair-raising ride.

"A man can dream," he replies softly before letting go of my hand, leaving it feeling strangely cold even in the rising warmth of the summer morning. Turning around, he begins rummaging around in one of the bike's saddlebags.

"Wh-what are you looking for?" I ask, clearing my throat.

"This," he replies, plopping a Dallas Cowboys cap on my head and lodging a pair of blue-tinted aviator sunglasses onto the bridge of my nose. "How's your southern drawl?"

"Passable," I reply sceptically, looking at my reflection in the bike's rear-view mirror. "So, we're supposed to be American tourists?"

"That's the plan," Drake confirms, turning up his own Texas twang as he pulls another pair of sunglasses out of the breast pocket of his own jacket — these ones with a silver tint — and slips them on to complete his own getup.

"That's not much of a disguise..."

"It works better than you think. Europeans view Americans as uncultured and obnoxious, and tend to give them a wide berth. So, we should be able to go about our business undisturbed. Plus, every good disguise should draw upon an element of one's character, to help make it more convincing."

Taking the cap off my head, I quickly tie my hair into a high ponytail before threading it through the snap at the back. As far as I recalled, the press hadn't seen me with my hair up, so I hoped that the new 'do, combined with the standard Hollywood disguise of hat and shades would be enough for me to remain incognito.

"Alright, Sherlock Holmes," I reply. "I'll take you on your word. But if we get mobbed by the paps, I reserve the right to never let you hear the end of it."

"Fair enough," agrees Drake, a smile teasing the corner of his mouth. "So, what did you want to do with your hard-earned day of freedom?"

"A bit of everything really," I say. "See the sights, try some local food and just have a walk around to get a feel for the place. I also want to convert some money in case I find myself in need of cash while I'm here."

"Is that it?"

"I was also thinking of buying myself some more clothes, as I only packed the bare minimum and I am starting to run out of things to wear. Oh, and since it looks like I'll be here until the end of the social season, I want to get myself a cheap phone and a pay-as-you-go SIM. Like I said at the picnic, my US plan doesn't seem to like being in Cordonia."

"Okay, in that case, I suggest we start with the touristy stuff, since we're in the old town area anyway. We can grab some lunch at a little café by the beach that serves the best seafood in town and then you can head off and shop to your heart's content while I run some errands. We can then make a pit stop at the bank and the mobile phone shop before heading back to the Palace."

I grin.

"What?"

"You called it a mobile phone... instead of a cell phone."

"That a problem?" he asks, raising a brow.

"Not at all," I reply. "It's just cute how Europeanised you are."

"Cute? Seriously?"

"Absolutely adorable," I purr, pulling my shades down to bat my eyelashes over the rims for added effect.

He folds his arms. “Are you done?"

"Not by a long shot," I inform him with a silky smile, pushing the sunglasses back up. "But, we can park the conversation for now. Lead the way, Tin Tin."

Drake shakes his head. "The things I let you get away with, Gale..."

"Who's going soft on who now?"

Drake gives me a sidelong glance before shaking his head again, a smile playing at his lips.

A/N: Again, change from canon here... I made Leona Jackson's sister, instead of Bianca's (see previous note in Chapter 9) because for whatever weird reason, her last name is Walker in the original (at least according to Choices Wiki).

Picture credit: www.Pinterest.com/Fjacketscom/

The story continues in Chapter 17 - Helluva View

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[hepaidattention]

denial

part 4

where Allison never died in s3 and Lydia and Stiles are going strong in the flirting game but still stubborn, so Allison decides to set them up (with Scott’s help of course).

find part three, two, and one here

"Lydia," Allison was standing there, arms folded over her chest, and her prominent jawline tight and pointed. "I know."

Lydia was standing outside Stiles' locker, a compact mirror in one hand and cherry red lipstick applying to her lips in the other. Lydia cut her eyes up at her tall friend, her mirror snapping closed in her palm. Allison was towering over her today. Apparently she decided to wear heels on the day that Lydia decided to wear the shortest heels she owns. She always regretted wearing the 4 inch heels, she always felt small and insignificant. Especially beside 5'10" Stiles Stilinski.

Lydia tilted her head, freshly coated lips pursed. "And what might that be?"

"About you and Stiles."

Lydia suddenly felt very exposed. It didn't help that she was currently applying lipstick outside his locker, waiting for him to rush to his locker last minute before running off to class. Stiles was always late for school, yet she always waited for him anyway.

Now, her friend was scrutinizing her with a piercing, knowing stare and Lydia felt like she came to school in her underwear.

She gulped, trying to keep her placid exterior in tact. "And what by that oddly accusing tone do you mean?"

"Lydia, stop with the games. I'm not an idiot. I know, and you don't have to be ashamed. I mean c'mon Lydia, it's me."

Lydia did know what she meant. That fact that she knew made Lydia feel very vulnerable and Lydia Martin hated feeling vulnerable. She raised her chin high, trying to feel bigger somehow, feel significant and powerful. However, she knew Allison saw straight through her façade. Allison had seen Lydia had her most vulnerable, and loved her more for it.

She looked at her phone to see the time. Class didn't start for about ten minutes, which gave Lydia and Allison at least nine uninterrupted.

"Okay." Lydia finally admitted. Her heart felt a little lighter as she said it. "I don't know how you found out but... I suppose I can't keep anything from Allison Argent."

Allison smirked, her stance softening into a lean towards the lockers. She looked causal and welcoming rather than tall and threatening now. "Well, yeah, duh." Allison gave her that giant, beautiful, entire-room-staring-at-her-beaming-face smile and Lydia suddenly wondered why she ever tried to keep it from her best friend.

"I ... I mean, I guess it just felt strange ever saying anything, because then it made it real... I just, it was one time, okay? And we never talk about it - but... I can't deny I think about it." She bit down on her bottom lip. Her gaze drifted off into another world. Probably a world of memories. "A lot."

Allison had now been defeated, because Allison had no idea what Lydia was talking about. Allison just knew that Lydia was just totally into him and thought if she pressured her she'd finally admit it - but what Lydia seemed to be implying was far more juicy than she thought. So, she chose not to speak. She let Lydia talk until she gave enough information away.

"Honestly, the other day, I think we might have almost ... I don't know. I might be overthinking it but it felt like we might ... you know, do it again and thank god we didn't. We were just caught up in a moment and if we had I would've had to break Stiles' poor little heart and I just don't want to hurt him like that, not right now,"

Allison was at a loss. At first she thought it was a date Lydia was implying. But now she was thinking it was more. A lot more.

"The first time was a fluke, okay? Like, an impulsive decision I sincerely did for the good of Stiles and I feel bad now, because I know I probably led him on and that was the least of my intentions. I don't want to hurt him. But it meant nothing to me. It was just a kiss."

Allison's heart dropped into her stomach, her jaw slacked, her eyes wide. "Lydia Martin, are you telling me you kissed Stiles Stilinski and you're just telling me now?"

Lydia paled. Her cheeks were a fire red, and the rest of her lost all color. It was like all the blood pooled into her cheeks. "You didn't know?"

Allison laughed. She couldn't help it. This was the best thing she'd heard all week. "No I didn't know you kissed Stiles! Oh my god, Lydia! You kissed him?"

"Shhh!" Lydia hushed her, noticing the sideways looks from nosey classmates as they passed them in the hall. "Could you keep it down, please? I'd rather not become the laughing stock of Beacon Hills High today."

"Laughing stock?" Allison's head bowed to the right, her brows meeting together in the middle. "Lydia, Stiles is hot, okay? And he's on the lacrosse team, and plays pretty frequently now. He's not exactly the nerd he used to be sophomore year. I hear girls in my class talk about how much they want to jump his bones on a regular basis. In fact, many girls ask me for his number on a regular basis."

Lydia's eyes squinted. Allison had to bite her lip back to keep from smiling, the obvious jealousy painted over her face a hilarious sight to see. "Seriously?" She was picking at her nails now, eyes staring out at nothing as she thought. She looked up again, "Stiles? Not Scott, Stiles?"

"Yeah." She nodded slowly. "I mean, Scott's a hot and wanted package all on his own, but girls don't ask me about him. He's my ex."

Lydia shook her head then, finger pointing up like she was about to make a argumentative point. "See, I don't believe you, because I never get questions about Stiles."

"Uh yeah, duh, of course you don't Lyds," Allison was laughing. Lydia didn't seem to get the joke. She sighed and gestured at Stiles' locker, "This? Waiting for him every morning? Eating with him every lunch period? Sitting beside each other in every class you have together? Other girls hardly even have room to flirt with him, let alone have the courage." Lydia blinked, clueless. Allison sighed, "Lydia you're all the girls competition. Of course they're not going to ask you for his number."

Lydia stood up straight and tall, and the look on her face couldn't be described as anything other than defiance. "Don't be ridiculous, Allison. Stiles and I are just friends."

"Yeah?" Allison quirked up one brow, arms folded, mouth smugly smiling. "Do just friends kiss and then not be able to stop thinking about it?"

Lydia's back fell into Stiles locker in a huff. "God, this is why I never told you about that."

A chuckle escaped her throat at Lydia's reaction. "I just want to know how the hell that happened for the benefit of Stiles and not you."

"He was having a panic attack. I was trying to calm him down."

"Oh okay, right," she was nodding in the most mocking of ways and Lydia clearly wanted to slap her over it. "Right. I forgot that doing something that would speed up someone's heart rate always stops a panic attack."

Lydia's eyes were shut tight in shame. "Will you ever drop this?"

"Nope. Never."

Lydia whined. Her eyes were still closed in embarrassment when Stiles came (for once) calmly strolling up to the locker with backpack slung over his shoulder and hair a purposefully wild mess. He gave Allison a warm smile, which she returned, but they stayed quiet as both waited to see if she would notice Stiles' presence.

Lydia finally said, "Just please Allison, I beg of you, don't say anything to St-" Lydia opened her eyes in the nick of time, seeing a wide eyed Stiles standing in front of his locker (which meant he was standing in front of her). "Stiles." She breathed. 

Stiles and Allison smiled, gaze meeting for a split second. "Lydia."

"You're here."

"Uhh, yeah?" Stiles stretched an arm behind his neck, his bicep noticeably flexing as his eyes narrowed slightly. "This is my locker, last time I checked."

Lydia straightened and moved over so he could open it. Standing beside her now, the height difference was amusing to Allison. Lydia's nose reached mid shoulder for him. "I just meant - you're just early."

Stiles checked his watch and shrugged, "Well, some might consider five minutes before class to be on time, but I guess that's early for me." He was fidgeting with the lock when he tried to casually ask, "So, who can Allison not tell something to?"

Lydia was dying on the inside and Allison was loving every minute of it. Lydia said "st" before she saw him, so whatever her lie might be, Stiles would likely not believe it.

"My mom." Lydia lied, and if Allison and Stiles hadn't known it was a lie, they might actually have believed her.

"Okay," Stiles looked between the two suspiciously stiff girls. He said, "Allison, what were you planning on telling Lydia's mom? Spilling some deep dark secret I should know about?"

Lydia was shooting daggers at Allison with just her eyes. Allison's cheeks were dimpled in deep as she said, "Something like that."

Stiles was obviously not buying it, but he tugged on his backpack and said, "Well I'd love to stay and chat, but I have a test to cram for."

Lydia's brow crunched up into a wrinkled v. "Stiles, that test is first period - which starts in four minutes."

"That's two more than I had last exam," Stiles just winks at her as he shuts his locker door closed. "Seriously though, everything's okay right?" He said so happily, so lovingly. His wide hand was on her petite shoulder. Lydia was mute now. She wordlessly nodded. "Okay. See you in class." His hand slid from her shoulder to her hand. He gave it a light squeeze and then he strolled away down the hallway.

Something they both noticed when he was walking away was the wave one blonde gave him. Ginny Green. Stiles gave her a friendly and uncaring wave back, but the blond stopped behind him and just watched his ass sway down the hall. Lydia looked like she might explode. The girl turned back and she saw Lydia's death glare shooting straight for her. Ginny Green quickly avoided all eye contact and rushed down the hall like a mouse being seen sneaking cheese by a cat.

Allison couldn't hold it in anymore. She burst into laughter and Lydia playfully slapped her friends arm in protest. "I'm going to kill you."

"Not if that deathly case of jealousy doesn't kill you first." Allison quipped back. "I can't believe you just found out that Stiles was a chick magnet."

Lydia huffed and flipped her hair back. She was doing that thing where she was trying to seem composed and unbothered, but was really melting away on the inside. "I am not jealous for Stiles Stilinski. Not now, nor will I ever be. If girls think he’s cute at this school then good for him, maybe Stiles can finally find himself a girlfriend. Now, please, for the sake of my sanity Allison, let it go."

"Lydia, you just told me you kissed Stiles, you did, and then I watched as you visibly just told that poor girl with your eyes she was going to be your breakfast if she ever looked at him ever again. Not to mention the moment of hand holding that you two so casually had. There's no way in hell I am ever letting this go now."

Lydia just groaned and walked away from Allison with one swift hair flip to the face. Thankfully Lydia was too short today for it to actually hit her in the face.

"See you at lunch," she called after her. Lydia completely ignored her, half expecting her to flip her off as she went.

Allison now had every reason in her book to go through with her plan. She had to text Scott; operation Stydia was now in motion.

-

read part five here

[neptunetheplanet7]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 - 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐬 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫

DM ME IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE PUT ON THE TAGLIST!!

;mikasa ackerman x fem!lesbian!reader

;modern au, band au

word count: 3.3k

warnings: fluff at first, angst ig, angry levi, hitch, swearing, arguing/fighting, yelling

sorry it took a while to get this out there. school started for me last week and it’s been hard getting back into the groove of things. thank you for being patient with me!

listen to the music masterlist

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A couple of days passed since Zeke's sudden arrival. Eren agreed to your terms of his brother's stay with reluctance. He understood where you were coming from, though. Armin was right about him respecting your decision.

Tonight you and your bandmates would meet your large friend group at a nice restaurant nearby. You stood in the bathroom attached to your room, styling your hair the way you wanted.

In the last two days, you received texts from a few of your curious friends. They all seemed very interested in who you were bringing to dinner. If only they knew it was the strong-willed girl you'd had a crush on for years.

Sasha and Connie put the pieces together and teased you relentlessly about 'bringing a date to dinner'.

You were nervous to see the reactions of your friends when you walked in with Mikasa. Unlike you, they didn't get a warning of her return.

Stepping back from the counter and smoothing down your outfit, you exhaled softly. You took one final glance at the mirror and left the bathroom.

Two blonds were arguing in the living room when you entered.

"What's going on?" you asked cautiously.

"We can't leave him alone in the house while we're out. He's like a child! He already broke two vases because he slipped while looking for spare change!" Armin explained. He was wearing a white dress shirt and black slacks. He ran a hand through his silk hair then placed both hands on his hips.

Zeke protested, "Y/n, you can trust me. Don't listen to him, he's delusional." He was still in his usual attire, a t-shirt, and jeans.

Armin's face turned red from anger. "Why you-"

"You broke my vases?" you interrupted.

"No."

"He did! I watched him do it the second time!"

You learned the hard way that messing with Armin was a death sentence. Especially when he was mad. The argument had to stop before it turned physical.

"Zeke, get dressed. You're coming with us, but you sit far away. You don't talk to us or our friends." You pointed a stern finger at him.

He pouted and groaned like a child before slumping his shoulders and stomping down the basement stairs.

Armin rubbed a hand over his face and, in an annoyed fashion, checked his watch. "Will they ever be done?"

You chuckled. "You're always the first one ready. Don't you know that by now?"

He rolled his eyes and fell back on the couch. "Shut it."

Eren appeared at the basement door, looking frustrated. In his hand, he held out the tie to the suit he was wearing. "How the hell do you tie this thing?"

Armin sighed and stood back up, his rest short-lived. They made their way over to him and began to walk him through each step while his eyebrows only furrowed more.

His long hair fell around his face as he tried his best to maneuver the tie correctly. His face lit up once he got it right.

"How have you gone this long without knowing how to tie a tie?" Jean leaned his head out of the hall bathroom, which you didn't even know he was in.

"Shut up, Kirstein. I get by." He glared.

Jean laughed and fully emerged from the bathroom wearing a beige suit vest and slacks. Underneath, he wore a cream-colored dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His hair was tied back in a short ponytail with a few strands falling loose.

Your eyes shifted back to Eren, who was struggling to put on his suit jacket and you stifled a laugh.

"Stop laughing! It's not funny." His words were hard to understand since he held around three bobby pins between his teeth.

You laughed some more despite his agitation. You were disrupted by the light clacking of heels on the stairs to the second story. Looking in that direction, you saw Mikasa walking down and you had to stop your mouth from dropping open.

She was wearing a simple tight black dress that reached just above her knees. Silver dangly earrings were in her ears and a dainty silver necklace hung around her neck. Her ring adorned fingers played with the hem of her dress. She smiled at you from across the room.

Eren bumped your hip and you nearly shrieked. His presence next to you had gone unnoticed until then. He snickered at you and nodded to Mikasa. You narrowed your eyes and tugged a lock of hair out of his bun.

His smirk dropped. "What'd you do that for? Now I have to do this all over again. Bitch." he grumbled the insult and left your side.

Mikasa walked over to where you stood. "Hi."

"Hi." You returned her smile.

She sucked a quiet breath. "You look nice."

You couldn't fight the grin that spread across your face at her simple compliment. "As do you."

She smiled again and you felt you might collapse from the surge of butterflies in your stomach.

Zeke came up from the basement, gaining everyone's attention. "What the hell are you wearing?" Eren chided.

He was adorned in a baby blue suit with ruffles decorating the dress shirt. You struggled to hold in your laughs, as did the woman beside you.

"Don't talk about it." Zeke lowered his eyes to the floor as Eren laughed loudly without shame.

"Marco's here to pick us up," Jean announced, shoving his phone into his pocket. He wanted to see Marco's reaction to Mikasa's homecoming at the dinner, but that dream was cut short when she answered the door to him the day prior. He was shocked, to say the least.

Sure enough, when you looked tho the front door, you could see the glare of Marco's headlights in the darkness.

He waved you all over to get in his car. Jean sat in the passenger seat, perks of dating the driver. In a backseat that was designed for three people, you were crammed inside with Armin, Eren, and Mikasa. Zeke was forced to ride in the trunk.

Mikasa was pressed up against your skin. In the confinement of the car, you could feel her warm breath tickling your shoulder whenever she spoke.

A shiver ran through your body and your hands gripped your knees. Nobody noticed, thank god. You were very grateful that the only light sources were phone screens and the button rims inside the car.

Everyone chatted mindlessly until Marco turned a corner into a parking lot. He parked the car near the entrance and got out with everybody following suit.

Once you were inside, you were greeted with the familiar smell of the restaurant. It was the one you always went to when meeting up with the group. You didn't know the owners, but Reiner did, and he was the one who planned these gatherings.

"Welcome to Galliard's!" greeted a blond man whose name tag read Colt. A look of recognition crossed his face. "Oh, it's you guys. Right, this way." He grabbed a menu for each person and led you to a large booth in the middle of the restaurant.

You took a good look at everyone. You all went to the same high school, some of you just didn't meet until later. Like you, Sasha, and Connie.

Five people were seated at the table. Two were missing. Ymir and Historia were late. Figures.

They all saw Mikasa looming behind you since each of them had some form of shock on their face. Several voices suddenly arose from the group.

"When did you get back? And why did I not hear about it?" voiced a betrayed Bertholdt.

"Mikasa, I didn't know you would be here," Annie said coolly.

"Oh my god, Mikasa!" Connie tried to act surprised.

"Mikasa! I had no idea you'd be here." It turns out Sasha was just as bad of an actor.

"This is your plus one, Y/n?" Reiner held a knowing expression.

"So no one is happy to see me?" Eren sounded hurt.

Reiner wasted no time standing up to pull you in for a hug. He pulled back after a few seconds and held you by the shoulders at an arm's length away. "Like the beard?" He gestured to his chin.

"Sure, Reiner, it suits you." You patted his shoulder and he returned your cheerful smile. He moved to talk to the others as Bertholdt came into your view.

When he hugged you, you noticed how much taller he was than you. You had to stand on your tip-toes to see over his shoulder. "What the hell, Bertholdt?" You fucking ladder," you blurted.

He laughed at your lovely way with words. "Hi, Y/n. It's been a while. I'm glad to see you're still doing well."

"It has. I feel like I haven't seen you in forever. How's it going at the school?"

"It's definitely going. I'll tell you about it in a second. You wanna sit down?" He moved to the side to let you slide into the booth. Mikasa was on your right and Bertholdt was on your left.

Everyone was seated except for Zeke, who stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do. Eren told him to find someone to get him to a table. He just pushed up his glasses and left.

Across from you sat Sasha, Connie, and Jean who were laughing their asses off at something Marco said. Reiner, Eren, and Armin sat on the cushy bench across from Annie who sat on one of the three chairs pulled up to the table.

"So, Mikasa, when did you get back?" Annie asked.

"Earlier this week."

"What? You've been here that long and we didn't know?" Reiner gaped at her.

"We thought it'd be a nice surprise." You shrugged.

"I thought you were bringing a date. Or is she your date?" Connie teasingly wiggled his eyebrows while Sasha laughed loudly.

You blushed madly at his question. "Shut up, guys! You already knew I was bringing her, anyway."

"You knew?" Bertholdt's eyes boggled.

"No wonder you're so calm. Out of everyone I'd expect you two to go ballistic," Annie pointed out.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Connie lifted his arms in an attempt to appear threatening.

A new voice spoke, "It means you're an idiot." You looked up to see Ymir stood behind Annie's chair with one hand around Historia's shoulders and one in the pocket of her suit jacket.

"Ymir, hi!" You greeted and she raised an eyebrow.

"This is your date?" She chuckled.

"She's not my date," you grumbled, folding your arms. Ymir just snickered and sat in the chair next to Annie's, Historia sitting next to her.

"Quit it, Ymir. Is that all you have to say to someone we haven't seen in two years?" she scolded her girlfriend.

"How is it, Mikasa?" Ymir turned and asked.

"It's good. Glad to be back." She gave a small smile.

"That's good to hear! We're all happy you're back," Historia said with enthusiasm. Mikasa nodded in response.

You picked up your conversation with Bertholdt from earlier about his job. He was an elementary school teacher and from what he told you, he was very good at what he did.

Other conversations went on, jokes were told, and by the time the waitress came to the table for your orders, you'd caught up with everyone. The whole group was excited Mikasa came home and it showed.

Her hand brushed against yours multiple times under the table and your shoulders tensed up whenever they touched hers. She didn't seem to mind the contact. You wished she'd just take your hand since you were too scared to do so yourself.

Those moments of giddiness were short-lived because you noticed two familiar figures at a table toward the back.

Hitch smiled maliciously and waved at you while bringing her champagne glass to her lips. Marlo sat across from her on his phone, drumming his knuckles on the table.

Your eyes widen and you quickly move away from Mikasa, startling her.

"Are you okay, Y/n?" She placed a hand on your shoulder with a worried expression.

"I'll be right back." You brushed her hand off and shimmied out of the booth, heading to the bathroom.

You pushed the door open and luckily no one was inside. Your hands gripped onto the edge of the counter as your mind raced. What the hell were they doing here? Why tonight? Your blood was beginning to boil as you became angrier by the second.

The door swept open and in walked the woman of the hour. "Hello, Y/n," she sang.

"What are you doing here? Can I not have a meet-up with my friends without you riding my dick?" you sneered, looking at her in the mirror.

Shock flashed across her face and she let out a breathy laugh. "Such colorful language, Y/n! I didn't expect that from you!" She turned to face the sinks and your eyes met in the mirrors.

"What are you doing here, Hitch?"

"I'm having a nice dinner with my friend, that's what I'm doing. It just so happens you were here tonight as well," she said.

"So it's a coincidence? If you say so, I don't believe you."

"That's exactly what it is. You don't have to believe it, but it's the truth. I can promise I wasn't planning on spying on you tonight." She blew her bangs away from her face.

She honestly couldn't tell if she was lying or not but your anger level was rising quickly and you didn't know if you'd be able to stop yourself from saying something you would regret.

"What is your problem, Hitch? Seriously, have you nothing better to do? I haven't seen half of those people in months." You tore your eyes away from the mirror to fully look at her.

"I told you, Y/n. I wasn't here for you. I don't have a problem." She narrowed her eyes as she stood at her full height, facing you.

You scoffed. "Tell me what your problem is. I want to hear you say why you're doing all this. You never did give me an explanation."

"I don't have a problem."

"Yes, you do. Why did you follow me in here? Do you think you can intimidate me or something?"

"I know I can intimidate you. Stop acting like you're the one with the power right now. I'm the one who has the guts to tell people what we were. You wanna know my problem? My problem is you. You couldn't get over a stupid high school crush. You still aren't over it and it's fucking weak."

You backed away as she got angrier with every word she spat. She hesitated for a moment and inhaled sharply.

"What's weaker is how much I care. I gave a shit about you and you couldn't see that she didn't. I knew about your feelings the whole time. You think I'm dumb? I know you thought of me as a distraction. And I liked being your distraction. But you run away from everything. You're a fucking coward."

You were too shocked to even try to apologize. Your mouth fell open and tears pricked your eyes.  Her breathing was ragged and her eyes were big. She blinked several times and the light caught a few wet streaks on her face when she turned her head.

"Hitch, I-"

"Please, don't say anything."

The state of shock you were sent into was broken when a sudden bang sounded outside of the bathroom.

Hitch looked desperate to get out of the situation, so she took the opportunity to bolt out of the bathroom. You took a moment to compose yourself before leaving to assure your friends you were okay.

The moment you stepped out of the bathroom, you stopped dead in your tracks when you were greeted with the jarring sight of Zeke seconds away from being punched in the face.

A man with short black hair was kneeling on Zeke's table with one hand gripping his collar and the other pulled back in fist.

"Zeke Jaeger right? You owe me a lot of money and my wedding ring," the man seethed and punched Zeke hard in the jaw.

He fell to the floor, clutching where he was hit. You stood there, stunned. Just as the man was bringing his leg forward to kick him, your instincts kicked in and you rushed to crouch in front of him.  You braced yourself for the impact that never came.

"You'd really kick a woman?" an unfamiliar voice spoke.

You looked up and saw him being held back by a man with a slicked back undercut and a bomber jacket adorned with patches.

Eren and Mikasa were at your side in an instant with the others following closely behind.

"Are you okay, Y/n?" Mikasa put her hands on your shoulders and you nodded. Eren shot you a worried glance while tending to Zeke.

The short man was still being held back by the guy from before, but now someone new was at his side. He looked like bomber jacket dude but with a different hair color and style. He was trying to talk down the black-haired man.

Bomber jacket interrupted, "Look, dude, you're scaring my customers. We don't do that shit in here. One of my waitresses panicked and called the cops. They'll be here soon for you if you don't take this the fuck outside."

"Porco! Watch your language," the brunette hissed. 'Porco' glared at, who you assumed was, his brother.

Eren and Mikasa helped Zeke up and began to lead him out of the restaurant. You and the others followed, except Annie, Reiner, and Bertholdt who stayed to talk to the restaurant owners.

Once you had safely gotten outside, you sat Zeke down on a bench. Sasha managed to snag some napkins for his wound.

Everyone except for you, Eren, and Mikasa were seated on the sidewalk. You three were also on the bench.

The door to the restaurant was pushed open and two voices were heard. The short man was walking out and a taller blond man was lingering behind.

He noticed Zeke and stopped his mumbling. He pointed a shaky finger at him and his face contorted into a nasty glare.

"Where's my money, bitch?" he shouted.

"Levi, why don't you calm down before you do something again." The blond man said.

'Levi' scoffed. "I just want my money back. And my wedding ring. Where the fuck is my wedding ring?"

The color drained from Zeke's face. Levi yelled at him again, "Where the fuck is it?"

"I pawned it."

If looks could kill, Zeke would be dead. The pure anger that was displayed on the man's face was enough to make you cower.

"Let me at him!" Levi purged forward and Jean attempted to stop him, but just ended up on the concrete. He pushed past Eren and in the blink of an eye, Zeke was on the ground. He was getting the shit beat out of him in front of your eyes.

Your friends yelled at him to get off. The man who was following him tried to hold him back, but Levi seemed even angrier than he was inside the restaurant. Eren tried pulling Zeke away with help from Mikasa.

Sirens sounded in the distance and you knew they were growing closer with each passing second. The staff hadn't called off the police, you realized. "Guys," you called.

"I'm gonna kill you!"

The sirens were muffled by the yells.

"Stop, Levi!"

They were clearer.

"Get off him!"

They were loud.

"What the fuck is your problem?"

Blaring lights could be seen over the hedges.

"Get off my brother!"

"Guys!" you yelled over everyone. You pointed to the police cars that were now pulling into the parking lot.

posted: 9/7/21

neptunetheplanet7© 2021

no reposts, edits, or modification to my work by anyone other than me.

[just-a-poor-boy-queen]

Alternate Universe requested by anon

The first thing Freddie noticed when he woke up was that he was wearing waders.

This was most peculiar. He never wore waders. The only person in Garden Lodge who wore waders was Jim for when he was cleaning out the koi pool. Freddie would sometimes throw them on as a joke, laughing at how they were too big for him; but today, to his surprise, they fitted perfectly. Even stranger was the pair of large wellington boots he was sporting on his feet, caked in mud and the most hideous shade of green. This was an outfit he wouldn’t be seen dead in, let alone asleep in.

What the hell is going on? He thought to himself as he stumbled out of bed, only realising once he was at the door that this wasn’t his bedroom at all. It was much smaller, with hideous peeling wallpaper and a tiny, single bed crammed in the corner. The place reeked of an odour that he couldn’t quite pinpoint. It almost smelled like… dog.

This was either an elaborate prank or some horrific dream, Freddie decided as he quickly descended the staircase, hoping that he might suddenly snap out of this nightmare if he ran into a familiar face. He heard Phoebe’s voice coming from the lounge downstairs and he quickly made a beeline for the room, desperately throwing open the door.

‘Phoebe, something weird is going on!’ He declared, only to stop in his tracks when he saw the other man.

Phoebe was… working out. Lifting weights, more specifically. In all the years that Freddie had known him, he had never seen Phoebe lift weights. Even more shocking was that the usually chubby man was now built like a tank. It was so surreal it was almost disturbing. Phoebe was a round, jolly guy who loved his food and never worried too much about his body image. This guy on the other hand...

‘What is it now?’ Phoebe sighed and set his weights down, flexing his huge bicep. ‘Shouldn’t you be out doing the garden? The boss is going to kill you if he catches you slacking.’

‘The garden?’ Freddie replied, appalled. ‘Why would I be doing the garden? That’s Jim’s job!’

Phoebe rolled his eyes. ‘Very funny, Freddie. Now, if you don’t mind, I was in the middle of something.’

Freddie opened his mouth to protest but Phoebe had already gone back to his weights and started lifting again. Annoyed, the singer turned and stormed out of the room, unable to believe how rude and dismissive his friend was being. And what was all this about “the boss”? Freddie was the boss!

Maybe Joe could shed some light on what was going on. Freddie quickly made his way to the kitchen, where he found the American in the midst of baking a cake, carefully sieving flour into a large bowl.

‘Joe-’ he began, only for the other man to shriek, flour flying everywhere until half the kitchen looked like a Christmas card.

‘Oh, it’s you, Fred.’ Joe clutched his chest dramatically, his glasses completely white. ‘What are you doing here? You should have finished the garden ages ago.’

‘Why does everyone keep banging on about the garden?’ Freddie grumbled, angrily wiping flour off his moustache. ‘And since when are you so easily startled? You nearly shat yourself!’

Joe looked slightly annoyed – at least, Freddie assumed he did, as he couldn’t really see his face under all the flour – ‘you know what a scaredy-cat I am, Freddie. The smallest drop of blood and I’m passed out on the floor. It’s a curse, really.’

Alright, whoever this was, it definitely wasn’t Joe. No way in hell was this the same Joe who, only last week, savagely beat a wasp to death with the kitchen mop, then left its severed head on the kitchen windowsill as a warning to the other wasps.

‘God, look at this mess.’ Joe rushed to the kitchen cupboard and took out a broom, sweeping up the mess on the floor. ‘When the boss sees this, he’ll break my neck!’

‘What are you on about?’ Freddie snarled, ready to tear his hair out. ‘I’m the boss! This is my house!’

‘I’m really not in the mood for jokes right now, Freddie.’ Joe replied, not even looking up at him. ‘Hurry up and get the garden finished, otherwise we’ll all be in the doghouse.’

Freddie couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Whatever parallel universe he was trapped in, he wanted out right now. But Joe had already turned his attention to cleaning up the mess, so Freddie had no choice but to leave him to it and trudge out into the garden.

He took a moment to survey the area; he didn’t know the first thing about gardening, despite sometimes watching Jim while he was working and occasionally helping him plant seedlings for his favourite flowers. He noticed a rake laying nearby and decided to start by raking the leaves off the lawn. How hard could it be?

--

‘Freddie? Freddie! Where have you got to?’

The sound of Jim’s voice echoing across the garden alerted Freddie, and he almost tumbled right off the ladder he had been balancing on to trim the hedges. He had never realised gardening was so much work; he was covered from head to foot in soil, his waders ruined and his hair dripping wet from when he had attempted to reposition the stone bowl in the koi pool, only to fall in face first. But none of that mattered now. Jim was here. His wonderful Irish husband was here, and he was going to sort this horrible mess out.

‘Jim!’ He cried as he entered the conservatory and found the Irishman standing there, looking unusually solemn. He immediately threw his arms around his neck. ‘Jim, I’m so glad to see you! You won’t believe the day I’ve had-’

He was cut off as Jim abruptly pushed him away; taken by surprise, Freddie didn’t have time to steady himself and ended up on the floor.

‘What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!’ Jim barked, wiping off the dirt that had smudged all over his expensive looking shirt. ‘You really think that’s an acceptable way to behave with your boss? You should know your place by now, Mercury!’

Freddie stared at him from where he sat on the floor, dumbfounded. What was going on? Why was Jim treating him like this? There had to be some mistake.

‘Jim,’ he said softly, his eyes large and confused, ‘it’s me.’

‘Yes, it is. Unfortunately.’ Jim huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. ‘For God’s sake, you’re filthy! And what the hell have you done to my garden?’

Freddie glanced out of the conservatory window, noting the misshapen hedges, the large holes in the lawn from where he had clumsily attempted to plant flowers, and the overturned stone bowl in the koi pool which miraculously hadn’t crushed any of the fish. Gardening clearly wasn’t his forte.

‘I-I did my best.’ Freddie insisted nervously.

‘A blind monkey could have done a better job.’ Jim snapped, crossing over to the drinks cabinet and pouring himself a glass of whiskey. ‘I sometimes wonder why I keep you on, Mercury. You’re absolutely useless.’

Freddie felt the colour drain out of his face. This wasn’t the Jim he loved. This man was cruel and demeaning, treating him like he was nothing more than mud beneath his shoe. His sweet and lovely Jim would never do this.

‘Jim, please!’ Freddie scrambled to his feet, grabbing Jim’s sleeve desperately before he could take a swig of his drink. ‘It’s me, Freddie. Your husband.’

Jim scoffed, shrugging the Persian off as if he were an annoying fly. ‘Husband? Sorry Mercury, but I don’t bat for your team. I don’t know what sort of weird obsession you have with me, but you’d better stop it. I won’t have any of that queer shit in my house.’

His house? What did he mean, his house? This was their house. Well, legally it was Freddie’s, but he had always considered it Jim’s home as much as his own. Tears rushed to Freddie’s eyes. This couldn’t be real. Any moment now, he would wake up and find out this was all just an awful dream.

‘Jim, I’m telling the truth! I’m your husband!’ Freddie rambled, heart breaking as Jim rolled his eyes in disgust and took another sip of whiskey. ‘Look, you bought that ring on your finger to show your commitment to me! And you bought one for me too, right here-’

He went to show Jim the ring on his right hand, only to find his finger bare. He immediately panicked. Where was it? Had he lost it? Had it fallen into the koi pool during the incident with the stone bowl? Had someone stolen it?

‘I’m not sure what planet you’re living on, Mercury.’ Jim finished his drink in a single gulp, completely ignoring Freddie’s distress. ‘But I bought this ring to show my commitment to my fiancée, not you.’

‘Your fiancée?’ Freddie could feel the walls closing in around him; in that moment, his entire world shattered and suddenly his lungs were fighting for air. ‘But who-?’

‘Oh, Jiiiim!’ The sound of the front door closing came from the hallway; moments later, the conservatory door swung open, and a familiar blond woman strode inside, laden down with dozens of shopping bags.

Freddie’s jaw almost dropped to the floor. ‘Mary?’

Mary pulled down her sunglasses a moment to acknowledge him, ‘oh, hi Freddie,’ before she immediately turned her attention to Jim and pressed a big wet kiss to the Irishman’s mouth. ‘Thank you so much for giving me another credit card, darling. I know I maxed out the last three, but I just had to buy that new dress I saw in the boutique window.’

‘Anything for the love of my life.’ Jim crooned, rubbing their noses together in a way that made Freddie want to vomit. ‘I’m glad you’ve had a better day than I have – just look at what that idiot’s done to the garden!’

‘Now, now, Jimmy.’ Mary replied, looking at the man as if he was a deity. ‘You know we have to be patient with the help. It’s not like anyone else will hire him.’

Freddie had never hit a woman in his life, but right now Mary was really tempting him.

‘Here,’ Mary held out her bags to Freddie, looking down her nose at him as if he were contagious, ‘take these up to my room, would you? Jimmy and I need to discuss the plans for our wedding.’

Freddie’s cheeks burned with both anger and despair. He went to take the bags when he noticed the gold band on her left hand; it was much smaller, clearly fitted for a woman, but he would recognise it anywhere.

‘My ring!’ he cried, hands clenching into fists as his entire body began to shake. ‘That’s the ring Jim gave me!’

‘Don’t mind him, love.’ Jim put an arm around Mary, a horrible sneer on his face. ‘I think he’s been snorting something; all sorts of crap is coming out of his mouth today. Make yourself useful, Mercury, and go take the dogs for a walk. Maybe that will sober you up a bit.’

‘Dogs?’ Was all Freddie managed to get out before the door flew open again and he was set upon by at least six or seven four-legged fiends.

Don’t misunderstand, Freddie liked dogs. But unlike cats, dogs lacked any sort of grace and dignity; they piled on top of him like they wanted him dead, tongues licking mercilessly at his face until he managed to wriggle free and take cover on one of the sofas.

‘Since when do we have dogs?!’ he practically screamed over all the barking, holding up a pillow to shield himself as a dog the size of a bear leaped onto the sofa to join him.

‘Your memory needs testing, Mercury. We’ve always had dogs. You sleep in their room, for God’s sake.’ Jim refilled his glass and called over to the Newfoundland, which was currently smothering the Persian man. ‘Bad dog, David. You know you’re not allowed on the sofa.’

‘David?’

‘Yes, David. Phoebe said we should have called him Goliath because of his size, but I thought David would be funnier. Completely catches people off guard.’

Freddie felt his spirit rise out from his body and drift up towards the ceiling.

‘Right, you’ll need to keep him on a tight leash if you’re going to take him through the park – you know how much David loves children and I don’t want any parents filing a lawsuit because he’s knocked their kid over.’ Jim said, as Mary took out a small pocket mirror and began applying lipstick. ‘Juliet gets really nervous, so make sure none of the others bully her. And Samson hates you, so just keep out of his way.’

Freddie glanced over at the white poodle with brown markings, who was growling at him menacingly. No, no, no, not Delilah. She was his baby, his princess. How could she ever hate him?

‘By the way, Jim!’ Mary chirped, seemingly oblivious to the chaos around her as the dogs swarmed the conservatory. ‘I took another test this morning and it came back positive – I am pregnant!’

Freddie covered his ears and screamed.

--

‘Freddie? Freddie, wake up!’

Freddie bolted upright, panicking when he felt his arms pinned to his sides, only to realise he had cocooned himself in the bedsheets. Jim was right beside him, carefully untangling him and smoothing back his sweaty hair while the singer trembled, mind still stirring from the nightmare he had just awoken from.

‘Sweetheart?’ Jim said softly once his husband had time to calm down. ‘You were crying out in your sleep. Did you have a bad dream?’

As if snapping out of a trance, Freddie felt his right hand in the darkness, almost weeping when he realised it was bare. ‘My ring! Where’s my ring?’

‘Shh, shh, it’s okay, love.’ Jim soothed, reaching over to turn on one of the lamps and pointing to Freddie’s bedside table. ‘It’s right there, safe and sound.’

Freddie immediately grabbed it and slid it onto his finger, vowing never to remove it again, not even when he took a bath. He turned and snuggled into Jim’s arms, head tucked under the Irishman’s chin, relieved that he wasn’t pushed away.

‘That must have been one hell of a dream.’ Jim murmured, kissing Freddie’s temple. ‘Are you alright?’

Freddie wasn’t sure if he’d ever get those images out of his head. Having to wear waders. Phoebe with a six pack. Joe being skittish as a kitten. Destroying his own lawn with his terrible gardening. Jim treating him like garbage. Mary wearing his ring on her finger. His lovely cats transformed into a kennel of hyperactive, smelly dogs.

But it was just a dream. He was back in reality now, safe in Jim’s arms.

‘I am now.’ He mumbled sleepily into Jim’s neck, placing a kiss against his throat. So long as Jim was his, he would always be alright.

The prompt

OH MY GOD I AM DYING😂😂😂😂

Ahh fuck this is so good I am STILL DYING😂

Firstly, kudos to the anon who came up with such a brilliant prompt. I mean this is innovative af, and you did complete justice to it, writer anon! I had actually forgotten about the prompt, and was afraid that it wasn't a dream😂

Freddie reactions were the best part lmao. How he's utterly horrified at the aspect of Jim and Mary (behold the return of jimary!) being partners, his baby delilah (rather her counterpart) hating him, Phoebe being a gym-aholic and ahhhh Joe, sweet baby Joe actually being sweet like a baby kitten😂😂 I loved it all! Imma reread this so many times ahahahahahah oh god.

(More drabbles by writer anon)

[a-dorin]

ardor | darth maul

word count: 3.135k

warnings: age gap, cursing, professor/student relationship, sexual tension, mentions of sex, sexual innuendos

a/n: hello everyone! so this is the surprise i listed on my upcoming works list! i was just so excited to post this that i have been working on it constantly! this is a modern au involving professor!maul, set in coruscant. the reader is 21 in this fic. let me know if you want this to become a series or be added to the tag list! i hope you all enjoy :))

summary: as a junior enrolled at university of coruscant, you are striving to complete a minor in psychology. however, one class in particular intrigues you. will you be able to focus or let lust consume you? 

pushing open the massive wooden doors, you grimaced at the vast amount of students already crammed in the seats. glancing at your phone, the time read 9:46 a.m. letting out a quiet sigh, you were fourteen minutes early and the lecture hall was almost to capacity. all of the seats on the edges were filled, and you grumbled under your breath. those damn freshman. always so early. 

scanning the space, your eyes fell on an empty seat, near the front of the hall. strolling down the steps, you mumbled apologies as you shimmied into the empty seat, almost collapsing into the chair. rummaging in your bag, you fish out your laptop, powering it on. 

once it’s whirred to life, you pull up your notes application, ensuring that you’re ready to take notes for the first lecture. the moment you were all set up, you ran a hand through your hair, noticing the togruta sitting to the right, as well as a mirialan to your left. 

“w-was this seat reserved for someone?” you stammered, a blush spreading through your cheeks. 

the togruta shook her head, “not at all! you see, that mirialan, she’s my best friend. we can’t sit by one another in class because we don’t pay attention. the seat is empty, we just wanted some space between each other.”

“oh okay,” you mumbled, relief rippling through you, “i wasn’t aware that everyone was going to be so early.”

“that’s freshman for ya,” the mirialan nudged you, giggling, “we just got here and the hall was practically full!” 

“don’t scare our new friend off!” the togruta huffed, her bright blue eyes shining with amusement, “i’m ahsoka tano.”

ahsoka tano was a gorgeous creature, a descendant of the togruta species. her complexion was an orange hue, her head tails striped navy and white, with two montrals poking out. her face was wise, as if she had matured at a young age. the white markings on her forehead were breathtaking, trailing down onto her cheeks. ahsoka’s eyes were a bright, crystalline blue, shining with warmth and kindness. 

you enjoyed that aspect about her already, as she was so friendly. she wore a plain navy blue tank top, which complemented her head tails, while donning a pair of grey joggers. her knee bounced, a fresh white pair of nike air maxes on her feet. you noticed the university logo stitched below a pocket, the curiosity within you rising by the second. 

“do you play any sports?” you arched a brow, “i couldn’t help but notice the logo on your joggers.”

ahsoka’s eyes drifted towards the pocket, “oh yeah! i’m on the saber team.”

“you wield lightsabers?” a gasped tumbled from your lips, “that’s awesome!”

a blush spread through ahsoka’s cheeks, dusting them a light pink, “thank you, it took many years of practice and dedication. i was offered a full ride to come here, so i transferred here from theed university second semester my freshman year.”

“rumor has it that ahsoka’s undefeated,” the mirialan chirped, “good morning, i’m barriss offee.”

barriss was almost the opposite of ashoka, clad in a floral sundress, the pattern burstings with greens, yellows, and purples. it suited her light green complexion, along with her rich blue eyes. her eyes were darker than ahsoka’s, glimmering with intrigue as she gazed you. black diamonds stretched across the bridge of her nose, her lips coated with a black lipstick. tights covered her legs, a chunky pair of doc martens on her feet. a hijab wrapped around her head, the material an inky black silk. barriss was gorgeous, her aura radiating  nothing but intelligence and compassion. 

“well i’m (y/n) (y/l/n),” you couldn’t help but smile, “i’m a junior.”

you couldn’t help but feel an attraction towards the two girls, as if you were meant to find to them, to be their friends. already, the three of you were off to a great start. you were looking forward to spending the rest of class with them for the semester, even if you just met. 

“what’s your major?” ahsoka inquired, “i’m a sophomore, looking to pursue an education major. i’m not quite sure what aspect of education, but i love kids.”

“that’s really cool!” you gushed, “how about you, barriss?”

“i’m a sophomore as well,” her tone was smooth, “i am looking to major somewhere in political science.” 

“i’m going to major in health sciences,” you remarked, “but i plan on minoring in psych. i needed this class for a prerequisite for next semester. which is weird considering the course title, but i feel like it’ll be an interesting class.”

“i agree-” ahsoka began, but was cut off the sound of the door slamming. 

the murmur of your fellow classmates fell as the professor entered the room, an aura of concentration settling over the lecture hall in a thick haze. you clicked on the mousepad of your laptop, ensuring that you were prepared for any note taking. absentmindedly, you typed in the date, as well as a title for the note section: first day of class. 

“good morning class,” the professor rumbled, his voice clear as it rang through the space, “i am aware that this is a three hundred level course and we have a limited number of weeks to get through course material, but today there will be no lesson.”

“so much for opening my laptop,” you grumbled, earning a hushed giggle from ahsoka and barriss.

“today will be an overview of the syllabus, as well as some icebreakers,” the professor continued, a unanimous groan erupting from the class. the professor chuckled, “i know, we all hate standing up and stating five fun facts about ourselves. but, it helps me remember names. after all, there are about one hundred and fifty of you.”

your eyes drifted up from your laptop screen as you shut it, widening with shock as they fell on him. 

your professor was a descent of the zabraki species, his ivory horns protruding from his skull. his face was absolutely gorgeous, jet black tattoos weaving an intricate pattern over his crimson skin. his jawline was strong, his incisors flashing as a wide smile enveloped his features. he was similar to barriss, an aura of wisdom and intelligence shrouding over him. if you had to guess, he was somewhat young, in his mid thirties or so. nonetheless, he had you in a daze, eagerly eating up every word that fell from his mouth. 

the zabrak was clad in a black turtleneck, paired with a tweed jacket. the jacket was a beige hue, dark, chocolate brown slacks as his choice of pants. a thin silver chain hung around his neck, lying on his chest as he spoke. in the light, you caught a glimpse of a silver stud, pierced on the upper cartilage of his ear. 

“gods, he’s hot,” you muttered, almost speechless.

“you can’t say that about our professor,” ahsoka teased under her breath, “he’s probably older than we think.”

“but he’s so attractive,” you breathed. 

“we need to pay attention,” barriss hissed. 

“shall i start with a brief introduction of myself, or should i begin with some review of the syllabus?” your professor placed his hands on hips, awaiting the class’ response.

“icebreakers!”

“i hate syllabus days!”

“the more time we take away from class, the better!”

the zabrak placed his hands out, chuckling, “all right, all right. the class has spoken. well, to start, i am professor maul. you can refer to me as professor or maul. my home resides in the psychology department, and i do find myself dabbling in philosophy or theology from time to time. i have two brothers. savage, the eldest is a geology professor here at university of coruscant, while feral, the youngest is a pastry chef deep in the city. perhaps if you guys are good, i can bring in his pastries sometime. if you have any questions for me, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

ahsoka’s hand shot up instantly, and professor maul nodded towards her, “yes, the togruta in the front.”

“how old are you sir?” her voice surged with confidence.

professor maul’s eyes narrowed playfully, “is that any question to ask a professor? since you were so bold, i will answer. i am thirty-one, nearing thirty-two by the second.”

“you’re old!” a voice called out.

“perhaps,” another chuckled tumbled from the professor’s lips, “i won’t hesitate to kick your ass in saber duel, though.”

“you were a saber wielder?” a classmate to below you, a twi’lek, blurted out. 

“i was,” he responded curtly, “although i teach here, i am not an alumni. i attended mustafar central on a lightsaber scholarship many years ago. however, i didn’t go pro, i took the graduate school path. enough about me, let’s me hear about you guys. i would like your name, your intended major or career path, along with a brief fun fact about yourself. don’t think about it too hard, we don’t have too much time.”

with every word professor maul spoke, you found yourself hanging onto every single word. there was something about him, the way he spoke so eloquently, or the way his amber eyes glowed with authority, that sent butterflies flurrying in your stomach. he stood proud, his arms folded across his chest as your classmates introduced themselves. you swallowed thickly as you realized you were staring a little too long, a blush spreading through your cheeks as his eyes fell on you. 

“it appears as if it’s your turn to introduce yourself,” his voice was so smooth, like honey, “how about you tell the class a little bit about yourself?”

you rose to your feet, anxiety swelling within you. clearing your throat, you began your spiel, “u-um, hello everyone. i am (y/n) (y/l/n). my major is health sciences, and i am unsure of the career path i want to take after i graduate. i guess a fun fact about myself is that i will be wrapping up my psychology major by the end of this year.”

intrigue flashed in the zabrak’s eyes momentarily, “ah, well, it is a pleasure to meet you, (y/n). never hesitate to reach out to me this year if you have any questions. who’s next?”

ahsoka stood from her chair beginning to speak. however, you couldn’t but notice his eyes on you, his lips pursed, a wistful daze painted across his face. you swallowed thickly, biting your lip, desperate to avoid his gaze. your cheeks burned, hot to the touch. gods, it was only the first day and you were already crushing your professor. a professor who was a decade older than you, nonetheless. 

the class was an hour and twenty minutes long, the time eleven o’clock by the time everyone introduced each other. once the last person finished, professor maul strolled up to the rows of seating, a thick stack of papers in his grasp, “please, pass this around, and ensure that everyone gets a copy. this packet is your life for the next fifteen weeks! do not lose it!”

as the packets were passed around, the sound of paper rustling echoed through the lecture hall. drawing in a sigh, you mumbled a thank you to barriss as she handed you the syllabus. once it was in your hands, you scanned over the text, glancing over it hastily. 

psych 315: monsters in modern society. the title of the course jumped out at you, a feeling of dread washing over you, threatening to steer your attention away from the syllabus. 

how were you supposed to pay attention to lectures in class when you could barely keep your eyes off the professor? 

****

“how was your first day of classes?” a familiar voice called into the den of your apartment. 

“rex!” you gushed, sprinting into the den.

the blonde couldn’t help but grin as you wrapped your arms around him, “good evening to you too.”

“classes were boring,” you groaned, burying your head into his chest, “they’re not the same without my best friend.”

“my classes were just about the same,” rex chuckled softly, “what’d you make me for dinner?”

“there’s some spaghetti in the fridge,” you responded, still latched onto the blonde, “the garlic bread is in the oven, keeping warm.”

“perfect,” he placed a tender kiss on your forehead, “practice was horrible.”

you detached yourself from rex, arching a brow, “yeah?”

“i’ll tell you about it later,” he exhaled, “i need to cool off for a bit, shower, and eat.”

“if you say so,” you shrugged, “hey, i’m going to go to the gym for a while. i should be back by the time you’re working on homework.”

rex rolled his eyes, “if film counts as homework, sure.”

“just text me if you need anything,” you slung your gym bag over your shoulder. 

“will do!” rex shouted as you opened the door, closing it. 

rex was your best friend, a kind and pure soul. the two of you met your freshman year, during the first week orientation for all incoming newbies. since you were far from home, you were anxious, unsure if you were going to meet any new friends or establish connections. one night, while you ate alone in the dining hall, a platinum blonde approached you, asking if you had any company. from there, the rest was history.

the two of you were almost inseparable. since you had known rex for a couple years, it only made sense that the two of you shared an apartment your junior year. besides, your schedules didn’t clash too much, as rex was on an athletic scholarship with the university’s rugby team. meanwhile, you were involved with a few clubs here and there, preparing for an internship with the hospital on campus. 

although you were in the pursuit of a health sciences major, you were unsure of which area you wanted to concentrate on. there were a variety options: dietitians, nutrition, nursing, radiology, athletic training, physical therapy, and so many more. however, you were set on graduating with a minor in psychology. which, you were on the right track. after your junior year, you would have that minor. 

the internship with the hospital was to dip your feet into uncharted waters, where you would experience a little bit of everything. you would be a receptionist for a variety of departments, switching offices every month. the internship began within the week, and the excitement within you was growing by the day. 

pushing open the doors to the recreational center, you chirped a greeting to the student employee at the desk, requesting a bottle of water. strolling towards the elevator, you pushed the button, aching to relieve the pent up stress. 

it wasn’t like your first day of classes were horrible, you just knew you had a tumultuous year ahead of you. with eighteen credit hours, along with the internship, you were unsure how you were going to tackle it all. yet, you knew that you could manage it. you just had to trust yourself and go with the flow. everything happens for a reason was the mantra for the year. 

as the doors slid open, you strolled towards the weight room, where all of the racks and machinery were located. since it was about nine o’clock, the rec center was shying closer to close, students making their way towards the elevator. you noticed ahsoka in the fieldhouse, practicing combat techniques with her team, the hum of lightsabers echoing off the walls. 

however, as your hands rested on the handle of the door, your breath hitched in your throat. through the glass, you noticed a familiar face at the punching bags. 

there stood professor maul, clobbering the bag with jabs and punches, his breathing ragged, coming out in light pants. curses rolled off his tongue, in a language you couldn’t quite decipher. 

carefully, you slipped into the weight room, careful to avoid making any sort of interaction with the zabrak. after all, this was a facility meant for the students, faculty, and employees. it was for anyone’s use, but the fact that he was there, in the same space with you, had your heart thudding against your rib-cage, your mind buzzing. 

sweat trickled down his skull, his back glittering in the light. with every single jab, his muscles rippled. scars plastered his shoulders and back, some deep, some faint. hesitantly, you clambered onto an elliptical, every fiber in your being screaming at you to look away. to stop staring. to stop admiring. 

the zabrak paused, scooping his water bottle off the floor. as he chugged the water, you nearly choked as water dripped from his lips onto his neck, down his tattooed chest. not only was his face tattooed, but the ink was all over his beautiful body, weaving geometric patterns. 

your cheeks reddened as you noticed the pair of black joggers hanging loosely on his hips, exposing his v-line. filthy, nasty, thoughts filled your mind, and you desperately shook them away. he was your professor. you weren’t supposed to see him like this.  

“fancy seeing you here,” his voice was low, raspy, “isn’t it almost closing time?”

“i still have about an hour,” you mumbled, your cheeks burning, “i wasn’t aware that professors actually used this facility.”

“you’ve got some fire in you,” he chuckled, slipping on a plain black v-neck, “your name is (y/n), isn’t it? you’re in my level three hundred class.” 

the sound of your name rolling off his tongue sent a shiver down your spine, “u-uh, yes. and you’re professor-”

“you can call me maul,” a smirk crept onto his lips, “no need for the formalities here.”

“okay,” you mumbled, flustered by his banter, “i didn’t know you were a boxer.”

his eyes flickered over you, maul licking his lips as you sat on the machine, your thighs full, “i am. it keeps me in shape. as much as i would love to stay and chat, my brother is finished with his work for the night. i have to go meet up with him.”

“you two carpool?” you felt a giggle bubble up. 

“unfortunately,” maul scoffed, rolling his eyes, “i have been having some car issues lately. hopefully i’ll be able to drive myself soon.”

“well goodnight,” you beamed, “i hope that your night isn’t too horrid.”

“if i have to hear one more word about geology, i just might throw myself out the car,” maul chuckled, his eyes shining, “goodnight (y/n).”

“goodnight maul,” your voice was low, the words almost a whisper.

the zabrak strolled towards the door, pulling it open. however, he paused, turning to face you, amusement glittering in his amber depths, a playful grin stretched across his features. 

“by the way (y/n), you could be a little more subtle about your wandering eyes.”

***********************

tagged: @sapphicstars , @maulieber , @starflyer-104 , @alwayshappysith​ , @doobiwankenooku​

[koeyohte]

It’s bright in the hallway.  Sunlight streams in from the expansive glass doors and windows just a few steps away in the atrium.  The campus has received many remodels in the past few years and I’m fortunate to be taking two of my semester’s classes in this airy building.

    I’ve never been good with school.  Other students could casually discuss what they’d learned or cram their study session in the night before an exam and do just fine.  I’ve always needed extra help - after hours work from the teachers, tutors, extravagant memory solutions.  I’d finished high school last year and now was waiting, alone, outside a closed wood door where my english literature class would take place; not for a while though, I think, glancing down at my phone.  I’m always early to class.  For now, I’m sitting on the floor, plucking at stray fibers of material from my jean shorts and wondering if wearing leggings would have been a better idea.  The tile is a cold shock to my skin whenever I touch it.

    I’ve been taking this class for three weeks now - two days in each of those weeks on Tuesdays and Thursdays.  I look hopefully down the hallway, toward the atrium.  There’s usually a quiet young man who arrives early and waits across from me.  He keeps to himself and is always reading something.  I think he’s nice to look at, though I would never admit it out loud.  He’s a bit unusual looking - angular features compliment a frame that’s thin and wiry, but with broad shoulders that make him appear larger than he likely really is.  His hair falls just past his shoulders, which is unusual around here.  I’ve never seen a man around my age with long hair.  When I’m sitting on the floor, he seems rather tall, but when I’m standing, he’s actually about the same height as me.  I don’t know anything about him but it’s nice to share the otherwise lonely wait in the hallway with him.  I feel like there’s something calm and even comforting about him, though I’m not really sure why.

Twice, I’ve switched up what side of the hall I stand on, just to see what he’ll do.  He stood farther away during the first week but after I accidentally dropped my notes and he picked them up for me in the second week, he’s been standing a little closer, still always across from me.  I remember noticing a narrow but long scar across his wrist when he handed me my notepad.  His hands were rather rough when they brushed mine.  He hardly met my eyes and was quick to move away again, like he was uncomfortable with being near me.  The dark circles under his eyes were much more apparent up close.

I look up when I hear the doors of the atrium open and my heart skips a beat.

    He’s buried in his phone just like he has been every day before.  He makes his way down the hall, barely looking up even once, and comes to lean against the wall opposite me like he always does.  He looks past his phone to nod at me, which I wasn’t expecting.  I try to smile at him but it comes out like more of a grimace.  He doesn’t seem offended and brushes his long hair from his face while he continues to read.  His hair is a strange, dark blond color and it frames his sharp features in a way that makes it difficult for me to look away. He doesn’t seem to attract much attention from anyone else but I realize as I stare at him that I find him oddly handsome.

    I guess that explains why I’ve randomly thought about him more than a few times this past week.  That’s new for me.

    Confused by my revelation, I look away before he can notice.  I don’t even know his name.  There’s a subtle smoky scent that I now recognize is coming from his bag.  It’s sweet and herbal rather than stale and dusty.  His clothes are the same as always - a button down, earth-toned shirt with dark grey slacks.  He looks like he should be working in an office.

    He doesn’t say much and he won’t speak unless spoken to. I’m not sure if that’s just how he is, or if it’s a manners thing, or if he actually despises small talk.  He seems too buried in deep thought for it, from my observations.  He’s always reading something, whether a book in his hand or something on his phone.  I can tell they’re not text messages by the way he brings the phone up and stares at it while occasionally scrolling for the entire 20 minutes we usually stand in the hallway.

    It’s surprising and a bit bewildering to admit that I like looking at him, but it’s true.  That being said, I find just about everyone nice to look at in some way.  It’s confusing sometimes.  I’ve never felt anything more for anyone, though, despite being pursued more than once.  It just hasn’t happened yet I guess.  I’m in no rush, so it’s alright with me.  Unintentional flings don’t seem enjoyable and I can’t imagine being so intimate and open with someone who doesn’t plan to be there in the future.  Unlike Sun, I think to myself - she’s been with lots of people, and while some of them still spend time with her just as friends, others have left a bad taste in my mouth.  She’s easily forgiven them.  Or forgotten.  Maybe both.

    Someone else walks between us and when I glance up, I’m surprised when the man across the hall looks quickly away from me.  I watch him for a moment, wondering how long he was staring.  Maybe he wasn’t.  Instead of looking back at me, he scratches at his chin and tucks his phone away, looking at something over my head.  I find myself glancing upwards, assuming there’s a flyer I must have missed, but there’s nothing there.  When I look back at him, he’s watching me again, but he startles.

    “Sorry,” he mutters and looks away.  He sticks his hands into his pockets and avoids my gaze.  I’m not sure what to say.  That it’s okay?  That sounds weird, possibly even creepy.  Should I ask him if something’s amiss?  That might be weirder.

    He’s looking at me again and this time, he doesn’t shy away from my own gaze.  His light eyes trail down to my knee, where I realize he’s eyeing a small cut from where I had banged it on one of Sun’s short coffee tables last week.  He looks like he wants to speak but he’s holding himself back.

    “Ran into a table,” I say awkwardly, gesturing at the wound.  It’s just a small red line now.  The man looks back to my eyes and nods.

    “Looks recent,” he says after a moment.  His voice is mellow and lighter than I expected it to be.  He sits in the first row, close to me in our class, yet I’ve rarely heard him speak; certainly not more than a simple yes or no.  “Not from this week, though.”

    I tilt my head at him, surprised he can tell.  “How’d you know?”

    Something passes across his face.  He looks almost disappointed - or angry?  “I’ve seen a lot of… cuts,” he mutters.  He shakes his head but falls silent again.  His expression is mellow as he stares at the tiles between us.  Relaxed, he’s very nice to look at.

    I feel myself start when he blinks up at me again.  I’m wracking my mind for something to say.  There’s a palpable tension in the air - either that, or I’m just incredibly nervous, for some reason.

    “What happened to your wrist?” I blurt, glancing at the pale pink line that reaches over his skin.  He pushes his hand further into his pocket and I fear I’ve crossed some invisible boundary with him.

    “Nothing,” he responds quietly, voice hardly more than a whisper.  His posture is stiff now and he’s avoiding my gaze, so I don’t press him.

    “What do you do?” I ask, hoping a change in subject will make him feel more at ease.

    “Metal shop,” he mutters simply.  He’s still not looking at me.  Deciding he’s done with the conversation, I just nod and go back to my phone.  Sun’s sent me a picture of some plants she wants to buy for her patio.

    “What about you?” he asks after a moment.  I’m glad that he’s not giving up so soon.  He still looks upset, or frustrated, but his posture’s relaxed a bit.

    “Just… this right now.  I’ve been around.”  I pause, realizing how that sounds.  “I mean - I’ve had a few odd jobs.  Nothing serious.  Coffee shops, library, things like that.”

    At mention of the library, the man perks up.  “What did you do there?”

    “Just inventory, organizing shelves, scheduling shipments from one branch to another.”  I watch his features change, almost dramatically, from brooding and gloomy to fascination.

    “I assume that means you like to read?” he asks, standing up straighter.  He takes his hands from his pockets and folds them.  He crosses one leg over the other and suddenly appears much more comfortable than he ever has in the hallway.  The newfound engagement on his face makes him much nicer to look at.

    “I do,” I begin, but before he can ask me what most everyone does, I hurry on, “but mostly nonfiction.  I had to focus on school for so long, I hardly had time to read for fun reading.  I’m just now getting into it again.”

    To my surprise, he nods as if he understands.  Most people find what I’ve said to be ridiculous, or a poor excuse to avoid reading as a hobby.

    “I’m like that sometimes, too,” he says.  “I’m always reading something, though reading purely for enjoyment is something I only very rarely get to do.  I’m….”  He tilts his head to the side and sighs as though he’s about to tell me something ludicrous.  “I’m in the midst of a collection of European cavalry history, right now.”

    I nod, unsure of what to say.  It doesn’t sound particularly appealing to me, but I can understand the draw for someone who knows more already than I do.  I try to smile in place of empty words, and the man drops his gaze to the floor again.

    I notice a tear in the belt loop of my shorts and start to pull at it.  They’re one of my favorites, as they actually fit.  I have exceptionally wide hips, so everything is either too tight in the thighs or too loose everywhere else.  I grumble when the string gets caught on my ring.  I wear a thin silver band around my ring finger on my left hand - I grew tired of people trying to hit me up.  Free from the devious string, I glance down the hall, but first I steal a glance at my classmate.

    I nearly startle when I notice his eyes are resting on me again.  It looks like he meant to just glance at me but upon noticing my staring, now he is too, in an effort to hide his intention.  Whatever it was.

    My heart is pounding in my ears.  I can feel my pulse in my chest.

    “Jeans,” I say weakly, shrugging at the string in my hand.  The young man nods once.  I see him swallow and lower his phone from his face.

    “I had a sister who wore a lot of them,” he says slowly, as though he’s considering each word before he speaks.

    I notice how he chose his words - “had” a sister.  I offer him a polite smile.

    “I’ve never had a sister.”

    “Brothers?” the man asks.  I shake my head.  He shrugs.  “More resources for yourself.”

    I open my mouth to respond, then realize that nothing natural comes to mind.  What an odd thing to say.

    “I suppose,” I finally say.  He had started to look at his phone again but when I speak, he pauses.

    “You suppose?”

    I look away.  There’s an edge to his tone that wasn’t there previously.  He seems frustrated with my comment.  His brows lower and the creases along his mouth deepen.  Whatever attraction I did feel toward him fades slightly.  The man straightens himself up and tucks his phone into his pocket.

    “You don’t get anything to yourself with six siblings,” he elaborates.  A subtle, tired smile flashes across his face at my expression of surprise.  “That’s all I meant.”

    Realizing that he noticed my disenchantment with his tone, I begin to feel guilty.

    “It’s alright,” I manage, hoping he’ll forgive my reaction.  I’ve always been sensitive to people’s behavior.  I assume it has something to do with a handful of particular years during my childhood.  My mother went through something that I was too young to understand, but I didn’t miss the things she did and said to me before she found herself again.  I’m quick to assume the worst from people rather often.  It’s something Sun likes to remind me about, if she isn’t criticizing my willingness to help people.

“Seven of you?” I ask, realizing the man is still watching me.

    He nods.  “We’re fosters… so, none of us are really related.  Different ages, come from different places….”  He looks suddenly uncomfortable and trails off, looking away.  He sticks his hands back into his pockets, shoulders slumping.  He looks like he wishes he hadn’t told me.

    “That must be difficult.  I can’t imagine that.”

    “Hmm.”  The young man looks back to me.  “It can be.”

    A few other classmates are starting to arrive.  I’m disappointed that we don’t get the hall to ourselves anymore.  The man pulls his phone back out and resumes his reading like I’m not there at all.  I get the distinct impression that his foster family is something he doesn’t speak about much and probably didn’t mean to offer to me.

    The rest of the wait goes by as usual.  Relative silence in the hall is replaced by shuffling shoes, the rustling of paper, the clamoring of heavy books against tile, and chatter.

The door to the classroom opens, the last of the previous class files out, and the professor beckons us inside.  I take my place in the front row, all the way over to the right, where I’ve made a corner against the far wall.  The man follows and sits two seats away like he always does.  The professor does all the talking, until discussion time.  My quiet companion and I aren’t exactly fans of speaking to the class.  The professor hasn’t called on us yet and she doesn’t this week, either.

    Once dismissed, I gather my things and wait patiently for the young man to take his so I can leave.  He’s shuffling papers in his bag and muttering to himself.  He looks upset, so I pretend to read a message, but am glad to see one from Sun to respond to anyway.  She’s got some exciting news about a new girlfriend, it seems.  I begin to type a reply but the man groans and moves aside, pinning himself uncomfortably against the table.

    “Sorry, I’m sorry.  Go ahead.”  He waits for me to pass him and I notice how he recoils further as I do, as if being near another person disgusts him.  His knuckles are white against the table and he’s turned his head away from me like he’s afraid I’ll look too closely.  I try not to think too much about it, hoping it’s not personal to me.  I pause just after him when I notice the way he paws frantically through his things.

    “You okay?” I ask, lowering my phone.  He looks up.

    “Yes.  I just… lost something.”

    “Can I help?”  I start to move closer but he quickly straightens up, picks up the bag and sighs heavily.

    “No.  Thank you.”  Clearly frustrated, he strides past me toward the classroom door.  I’m surprised when he holds it open and looks expectantly at me.  I thank him and sweep out into the hall.

    “You sure you’re okay?” I ask again when he trudges past me.  He frowns.

    “I’m fine.”

    “Okay.”  He doesn’t seem fine.  He seems to be silently fuming.  His brows are low and the creases in his face are deep.  I remind myself that I don’t know him and it’s best to leave him be.  Despite the way my feelings get carried away so easily, I have to remind myself that they shouldn’t choose my decisions for me.  It’s very difficult, especially when I see someone upset or in need.  Sun likes to tease me about it, telling me I’ll spread myself thin trying to provide more attention to everyone I’ll ever meet than I ever do for myself.

Some days, I think she’s right.

I leave my disgruntled classmate behind and go to stand outside, waiting for my mother to pull the car up.  We share the vehicle, so she dropped me off today.  She had work for a few hours while I was on campus and doesn’t always get off on time.  I could be waiting here awhile.

    I look up when someone comes to stand next to me.  It’s my classmate, and he’s fidgeting like he’s distressed or like something is wrong.  His hands are flexing like he’s in pain and he’s gritting his jaw.  I don’t ask him this time if he’s okay.  He’s staring straight ahead as if I’m not there.

    “You getting picked up?” he asks suddenly.  I nod and ask him the same.  He barely hides a scoff.  “Ah - no.  They would never… no.  I just....”  He frowns and looks down.  “Nevermind.”

    “Wait.”  I follow him as he steps back toward the building.  He looks strangely on edge, like a frightened, injured animal.  I feel myself hiding an eye roll at the way he stares at me like I’ve caused him further upset.  “Don’t worry, I won’t ask if you’re alright - but... do you need anything?”

    He looks offended until he realizes why.  “I’m sorry,” he begins, turning around to face me again.  His voice is thin and suddenly soft.  There’s something gentle in the way he speaks to me now.  “I didn’t mean to be rude.  It’s not… socializing isn’t my strong suit.”  He looks sheepishly away again, hand anxiously rubbing at the strap of his backpack.  I can see how worn it is there.  “You don’t… have a lighter, do you?”

    That’s what the herbal smell was.

    “Sorry, no.”  I don’t have anything against smoking, but I’ve never done it myself.  Sun does, sometimes.  I’ve sat in her room in the cloudy, sweet haze while her company languished around, discussing things they weren’t ever quite relaxed enough to allow themselves the luxury of doing before.  It’s a great time it seems, but I won’t try it with so many strangers around.  I trust Sun with my life, but she has a lot of strangers in her room sometimes.  Some come and go swiftly and others stay for weeks.

    The man casts me a small smile.  I hate how charming he looks like that.

    “Darn.  Hope you won’t think any less of me for it, anyways.”

    “What makes you so sure I’m thinking about you at all?”

    I’ve spoken before thinking.  I feel my face flush bright red.  He blinks at me for a moment, then looks away.  Neither of us say anything for several breaths.  The tension is stifling.

    I close my eyes and shake my head at myself.

    “That - that was… I didn’t mean it like that.”

    The man laughs quietly and I see him reach up to scratch distractedly at the back of his neck, ruffling his hair.  He looks shabby but in a confusingly enticing way.

    “‘S alright,” he mumbles.  I allow myself to look at him for a moment while he’s busy looking anywhere else but at me.  His face is lightly shadowed and his sharp features cast sunlight across his forehead and the bridge of his hooked nose.  His eyes are light, unlike my own.  As I look, I notice pretty, almost yellow centers.  I’ve heard of heterochromia but I can’t tell from here if that’s what’s there for sure.

    He looks at me again and I notice out of my peripheral vision that my mother’s little blue car is turning into the driveway.

    “My mom’s here,” I announce, unsure of how else to proceed.  The tension is still there but it’s not as taut.  The man looks up and backs away from me as though he shouldn’t be seen so close.  He’s chewing his lip but as the car pulls up to a stop, he just looks away from me again.

    “See you,” he says, and turns back into the building before I can even respond.  I open the passenger door and climb in, not allowing myself to stall, and glad when my mother doesn’t ask any questions.

[jj-lives]

Wild Inktober - Bmblb

Okay... i may have had a hard time with this word prompt. I was trying to play with Yang acting wild and Blake appearing so. But when writing it kinda took another route... oops. Oh well.enjoy!!!

————————————————————————————————

For some reason, even though Pyrrha had been her best friend for two years, Yang rarely hung out with her friend group. From what Yang had heard none of them took the physical education route that they had. This meant Yang never had a single class with any of them so no reason to socialize with them; other than them being her closest confidante’s best friends.

Which was why when Pyrrha started begging her to come along she couldn’t, in good conscience, refuse. Parties were never really Yang’s chosen scene, though the last one she’d been to was in highschool. She was all for trying new things and from what she’d garnered the boy Pyrrha was crushing on would be here. After the amount of time Pyrrha spent listening to Yang’s problems; well the least she could do was show up and see if she could help her friend out.

Pyrrha met her down the street from the party as Yang refused to leave her bike anywhere near the drunken crowd.

“I’m so glad you came!” Pyrrha spoke once Yang cut the engine.

“Did you honestly think I would bail?”

“The thought did cross my mind.” She admitted, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear nervously.

It was a side of her friend Yang was unfamiliar with. To see Pyrrha anything but confident and sure of herself didn’t make sense. She always held the answers, always knew what to say and what to do. She must really be hung up on this guy to have lost all her poise.

“Well look at you!” Yang exclaimed, taking a stop back to look her friend up and down. “You’re hot.”

Pyrrha blushed as she swatted at Yang’s arm.

“Alright, that’s enough.’ She laughed but Yang was glad to see she was standing tall once more.

Making a mental note to keep an eye on her, they walked the couple blocks to the party discussing their Physiology projects. A redhead called Pyrrha’s name as they neared the apartment building designated to house this weekend's festivities. Behind the girl stood a man with a pink highlight dyed into his black hair. Yang recognized the two immediately as Pyrrha’s friends; Nora and Ren.

Nora reminded Yang of a stronger, more hyperactive version of a member of the highschool gang she used to hang out with. Both were in your face with their excitement, but where one always came off as kind of superficial Yang didn’t mind Nora as much. She was loud, but at least she seemed to be good for a laugh. Her boyfriend was the exact opposite. Ren rarely spoke but always seemed to be enjoying himself. Yang took the pair as a more go with the flow types.

“Are you two ready for the party of the century?” Nora asked excitedly, bouncing on the spot.

Ren placed a firm hand on her shoulder and she soon quieted to a barely noticeable vibration.

“This is a the only thing she’s talked about all day.” Ren said with a shake of his head.

“Let’s get in there then.” Pyrrha suggested. “Before she breaks free and goes without us.

Yang laughed but soon realized no one else was joining her.

“She thought you were joking?” Ren asked Pyrrha.

“Well she doesn’t know Nora like we-“ Pyrrha turned from Ren to look at through the growing crowds. “Where did she go?”

“Oh no.” Ren sighed, jogging to the apartment’s front door he slipped between some students coming out.

“You were not kidding.”

“Nope.” Pyrrha laughed. “Ren will find her. I’m sure we’ll meet up later.”

“This happens often?” Yang questioned as they squeezed through the packed entrance themselves.

“More than you would think. For someone normally so loud, Nora is able to sneak away without being noticed a lot.”

They grabbed some drinks from the first room they came to on their left.

“Each floor will have a room with drinks and the rec areas of each floor all have a different theme.” The preppy girl behind the drinks table explained. “Have fun.”

“This is a little more organized than I’d imagined.” Yang mentioned as they entered the first floor rec room.

“I’ve been to a few. Some weekends it's a free-for-all but some buildings actually put effort into their planning. I tend to enjoy these ones. They attract less police.”

For several minutes Yang followed Pyrrha in and out of several rooms and up flights of stairs. When they reached the third floor Pyrrha stopped so suddenly Yang nearly spilled her drink down the back of her green shirt. She would have felt horrible if she had. It was obvious Pyrrha put a lot of effort into her look tonight. Her hair was down instead of up in its usual ponytail, but she’d taken the time to curl the usually straight locks to frame her face perfectly. Yang would never forgive herself if she ruined her friend’s outfit tonight.

“What’s up?” She asked, stepping around to stand beside Pyrrha. “Why did you stop?”

“It’s him.” Pyrrha breathed, pointing to a blonde guy across the room. He was playing pool with three others. He was decent looking, Yang would give him that, but knowing Pyrrha wouldn’t have it so bad just for looks he must have some other redeeming qualities. “What do I do?”

“Go talk to him?”

“Yang, that’s not-“ she stopped talking to down the rest of her drink. “I need another drink. Let’s go.”

Yang was pulled back into a crowded hall, through a crammed doorway and her still half full glass was replaced with a full one before she could protest.

“Hey, slow down.” Yang pulled at Pyrrha’s wrist to stop her chugging the second drink as fast as the first. “Let’s just go back in there and sit down for a minute, okay?”

“I can’t with him in there.”

“You have spoken to this guy, haven’t you?” Yang asked for clarification. She couldn’t help if she was walking in blind.

“Don’t be silly. Of course I have.” She finally allowed Yang to guide her back to the open rec room and allowed herself to be sat in view of her crush. “But that was in classes, and we spoke almost solely regarding projects and tests.”

“Then how do you know you like him if you haven’t had an actual conversation with him?”

“How did you know you liked this mystery girl I’ve yet to meet?”

Yang’s jaw went slack.

“You made your point.”

“It’s just the way Jaune carries himself, and the conversations I’ve overheard him having with his friends.” Pyrrha admitted. “It may make me a stalker but I just like him. Okay?”

“I got you!” Yang pulled her into a quick one armed hug before leaning back to observe what she had at her disposal. “We are going to get you that one on one tonight.

Pyrrha blanched, speaking up to dissuade Yang from making any plans.

“I love you, girl. This is why you wanted me to come. Isn’t it?”

Pyrrha sighed, resigning to her fate. “Maybe. I don’t know. But I wanted you to socialize more as well.”

“You had ulterior motives?” It pulled a smile from Yang as she elbowed Pyrrha playfully. “Well thanks. I guess I have been kind of a hermit lately.”

“Lately?” Pyrrha’s voice was high with surprise. “Try always.”

“You may want to be nicer to the girl working to get you and Prince Charming time alone.”

“If you accomplish that I will forever be in your debt.”

It was clear Pyrrha didn’t think the odds of Yang succeeding were very high. But Yang loved a challenge. Step one was getting said guy away from his friends, but as she watched she realized that was going to be harder than she first anticipated. They were worse than a group of chicks. Jaune never seemed to be alone. Wherever he went someone else tended to follow.

One thing became clear the longer Yang observed. Jaune was definitely looking their way more often than anywhere else. Perhaps this wasn’t such a one sided attraction as Pyrrha thought.

Taking a break from pool Jaune and one of his other friends broke off from the group and made their way to sit at one of the tables along the far wall. But something else caught Yang’s attention as they moved. A familiar form sat alone, curled up in a chair in the corner of the room.

“Blake,” the name dropped from her lips.

“Where?” Pyrrha leaned forward, eager to see this girl that had been all Yang could think or talk about for weeks.

“In the corner, but don’t make it obvious you’re looking.”

“I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.” Pyrrha laughed. “Is she reading a book? At a party?”

“I didn’t take parties as her kind of scene.” Yang couldn’t believe it. This was the absolute last place she thought she would run into Blake.

“You should go talk to her.” She nudged slightly out of her seat and for a split second she entertained the idea, but she was here for Pyrrha not herself. First things first.

“I find your advice hypocritical when you won’t follow it yourself.” Yang stood and stretched. She never was the type for staying in one way for too long. “I’ll be right back.”

Pyrrha protested being left alone but did as she was asked. Yang hurried to get two more drinks. She had hoped her leaving would give Jaune the chance to approach Pyrrha but it seemed he was being just as stubborn as her friend. Trusting her instincts she strolled past Pyrrha and came to sit at the table Jaune and his friend were occupying. Pushing both drinks below Jaune’s nose she tested him by smiling at him.

He reacted just as she thought, staring blankly at her, though seemingly a little confused at her abrupt entrance into his personal space. His friend on the other hand did the opposite.

“Hey, babe. Do-“

Raising a hand she cut him off.

“I’m not here for you.” Yang leaned back and folded her arms across her chest. She never took her eyes off the boy across from her. “You know my friend, Pyrrha?”

“Yeah,” he coughed, a blush forming across the bridge of his nose. This was perfect. “We had a few classes together. She’s great! And smart. She-“

“Ugh,” Yang made a face, turning towards the blond guy next to her. “Is he always like this?”

“Unfortunately, yeah.” Jaune’s friend shook his head in disgust. “He is hopeless, but even more so with that chick.”

“Don’t call her that. She has a name.” Jaune defended.

“Well those drinks are for you and her.” Yang nodded to the two cups she placed down. “So can you go talk to her please. I hate seeing her alone.”

“I-I-I wouldn’t… I mean, what would I say?” Jaune stumbled on his words.

“I would start with hello, myself.” Yang looked over to Pyrrha, who was trying her hardest not to make it look like all her attention was taken up by their little interaction. “She got all dolled up tonight. You don’t honestly think she’s going to be able to sit there very long without another guy gaining the confidence to speak to her. Do you?”

With a new determination Jaune grabbed both cups and made his way across the room. The smile Pyrrha shot her way as Jaune sat across from her was all the payment she needed.

“The name’s Sun-“

“Nope.” Yang stood, leaving the other to drag himself back to his group of friends.

She made her way to the corner Blake still claimed. As she neared, Yang noticed most students were giving the area a wide berth as they maneuvered around the different games tables. It was easy to see why when anyone who got within three feet of Blake received a deadly glare for their intrusion.

Yang was not looking to upset Blake, especially since their last run in didn’t end on a positive note. But she wanted to stick around for a bit in case Pyrrha changed her mind and needed an escape. She sat in a chair near enough to Blake that she could strike up a conversation but angled the direction of her friend.

“Were you going to say hello?” Blake voiced after several minutes passed.

“I thought about it.” Yang answered, eyes still glued on the back of Jaune’s head. He turned to catch her eye, having felt her stare. Good at least now he knew to behave.

“Decided against it?”

“You seemed preoccupied with your book.” Yang explained, finally tearing her eyes from the new couple to look at Blake. “Besides I wasn’t in a hurry to be on the receiving end of one of those glares I saw you giving everyone.”

“If you saw that, I wonder why you decided to approach in the first place.”

“Because I live on the wild side?” Yang figured faking some confidence couldn’t be a bad thing. Her heart was hammering in her chest and her mouth was going dry with nerves but something drew her to keep talking. To keep Blake talking. “Why are you at a party if you aren’t going to partake?”

“You forget?” Blake’s incredulous tone reached her ears. “This is my apartment and my room has so graciously been volunteered as a coat room.”

“Oh,” Yang became flustered that she’d not recognized the building. “I didn’t notice the address. I met Pyrrha down the street and we walked here. I am sorry you’re being put out like this though.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m sure Weiss or even Ruby and I could have let you stay over had we known your place was being confiscated.”

Blake closed the book and set it in her lap.

“They knew, and offered.”

“Oh.”

Why was she so hard to talk to? It was normally easy for Yang to start up meaningless conversations with people. But maybe that was the issue. She didn’t want to have a meaningless anything with the girl she was sitting next to.

“How is Rosco?”

Blake smiled at the reminder of her dog.

“He is good. Back home with Mom and Dad.”

“I’m sure he misses you.” Yang returned the smile but Blake’s disappeared at her words.

“Why would you say that?” She questioned.

“Because it’s true.”

Yang could have come out with any cheesy line about anyone missing a face as pretty as Blake’s, but she didn’t think Blake was the kind to appreciate that kind of forwardness; at least not from someone she barely knew.

“And your classes are all going well?”

“Yes.” Blake sneered. “Why are you suddenly so interested in my life.”

“I’ve always been interested,” was her honest reply.

Blake opened her book and began reading once more. It certainly looked like she wanted nothing to do with her, but something nagged at the back of her mind. There were times Blake seemed more than happy to entertain her. In the mall and the short interaction when they’d collided on the street. And she never ignored her when Yang spoke up when Ruby and Weiss were with them. There were times Blake was willing to open up, but others it seemed she was not just a closed book, but a locked one.

And Yang couldn’t help but wonder why.

“You invited me running, did you not?”

“You don’t give up do you?” Blake responded, throwing the book on the small table between them. “Most people would get the hint I want to be alone. Why don’t you?”

Yang shrugged.

“Because, sometimes what’s shown to others is just a mask. And it’s got to be lonely keeping people at arm's length all the time. Right?”

Blake studied her for several moments but before either could continue the conversation there were police sirens ringing out on the street. Blue flashing lights came in the upper windows and there was a shout for everyone to leave.

Pyrrha’s frantic eyes found her and Yang nodded for her to leave with Jaune.

“I guess that’s my cue to leave.” Yang took a few steps towards the stairs before turning back to Blake. “It was nice seeing you again, Blake. I hope to see more of you, okay? Anytime you need to escape-“ Yang waved at the mess the other students were leaving behind in their haste. “-this, feel free to come over. Ruby and I would be happy to have you.”

“Thanks.” Was Blake’s only response as she rescued her book off the table and brushed past Yang to head to her room. She paused at the entrance to the hall. “I’m going running tomorrow. It may not hold up to your exciting wild lifestyle, but I’ll be leaving here at ten if you want to join me.”

“If you ask me, risking your wrath to get a few sentences of conversation may be the most dangerous thing I do all semester.” Blake rolled her eyes but the small smile Yang could see she was trying to hold back told her Blake may be enjoying Yang’s pushy side. “I’ll see you in the morning.” Yang called through the closed door.

The smile the interaction elicited was so noticeable Pyrrha pulled her aside when she exited the building.

“Did you get a date?”

“No, but we’re going running tomorrow.”

“That’s great!” Pyrrha exclaimed.

“What about you and boy wonder?” Yang asked, seeing Jaune still hanging back but looking their way.

“He’s going to walk me home,” She ducked her head in embarrassment. “But he asked me out next weekend, once our cardio test is over.”

“I am so happy for you.”

Yang wasn't sure her smile could get any wider after leaving Blake but here she was, proving herself wrong.

“Well Nora was right about one thing I suppose.” Pyrrha winked as she backed towards Jaune. “The party of a century.”

“You got that right.” Yang laughed. “You better take good care of her!” She yelled at Jaune and he jumped, hurrying Pyrrha along to put more space between him and Yang.

Making her way to her own ride parked down the street Yang took one last look up at the apartment’s third floor. She could have sworn she saw a pair of amber eyes looking down on her. She waived just in case before hurrying to her bike. She needed to get a good night’s sleep if she was going to be up and in any shape to run in the morning.

[platinumsupa]

Diakko highschool AU maybe?

(but isn’t it already a…?

in any case! Here’s a diakko high school au! Diana may be the popular girl at school, but unfortunately for her, she’s ended up head over heels for a certain someone at the exact opposite end of the bell curve…

1700 words, so it’s a bit long, but that’s because I was having fun with it, sorry~ ^ ^;)

Diana was what people would call the popular girl. 

Student Council president, top of the class, head of theDance Squad, and she was perhaps the prettiest in school to boot, or so that’s whatpeople told her. Boys who were unaware of things often tried to ask her out, orat the very least sit with her and hope she looked their way. Every time shewould respectfully decline, which seemed to just add to her reputation as an unattainable beauty.

Akko was a new transfer student here at school. She was continuously almostbeing kicked out of the lacrosse team because she couldn’t keep her grades up,and when she wasn’t getting into very loud, fiery conversations with herteammates, she was usually getting into trouble with teachers. Last week, Diana watched ahalf-asleep Akko walk face first into a doorframe.

And Diana had noidea how to talk to this girl without feeling like a complete moron, because god, she had it bad.

How did she let it get this out of control? She really couldn’t say.

The first time Diana saw Akko, she was walking home with fellowclub members Hannah and Barbara, and they all stopped when they saw a short Asiangirl up in a tree, tangled in tree branches. And they watched, slack jawed, asthe branch broke from under her and she came tumbling down hard to the grass.

In her arms was a small black cat. In a show of gratitude toits rescuer, it clawed at Akko’s hands and took off running back home. Akkotook a moment to suck on her bleeding pinky before she finally noticed the threeof them looking down at her on the ground.

“Hi there!” She said, still on the ground. “I’m Kagari Atsuko, but everyone just callsme Akko. What’s up?”

Hannah and Barbara laughed at her, and Akko grumbled, simplystanding up and rubbing the dirt off her sleeves, watching the cat’s rapidly retreatingtail.

Diana’s heart started pounding, for some reason.

Some time later, Akko had talked back to Finnelan and landedherself an after school detention. Diana had found her alone in the classroom,not cleaning like she was supposed to. She took no notice of Diana there, becauseAkko was too singing along to an anime theme song playing through herheadphones and dancing with her mop like it was a microphone.

Diana spent all night thinking about it.

And then soon after, Diana absently looked over in Mathclass, and spent a good five minutes staring as Akko glued plastic gemstonesto her lacrosse stick in the shape of the Big Dipper. By that point, through nochoice of her own, Diana was definitelyvery interested.

Because Akko had a very cute face, not to mention such a passion in her voice, and a swagger inher step, and one would think a student in the running for some of the most prestigiousscholarships in the country wouldn’t be so stupidly useless, but here Diana was,her standards dropping like an elevator with its cables cut.

She spent a good portion of Mrs. Lukić’s science classtrying to keep her attention on the slides, and not the opposite table whereAkko was doodling in her notebook. To the point where she almost didn’t evenhear Mrs. Lukić’s announcement.

“Why don’t you all get with a partner and work through someof the problems on the board?”

Most students simply immediately went with the same friendsthey always did. Frank looked in Diana’s direction hopefully, as did Hannah andBarbara who sought to make a group of three, but Diana only had eyes for oneperson.

“So.” Diana said, standing over table. “You don’t appear tohave a partner at the moment. Allow me to help you.”

“Partner?” Akko looked up from her notebook and cocked herhead. “Wait, we’re doing group stuff?”

“You should really pay better attention. It would be problematicif you failed, especially in regard to your games, would it not?”

Akko huffed. “I don’t need you to tell me that. I can keepmy grades up just fine on my own!”

“I was not saying you couldn’t. But in any case, the teacherintends for us to work in pairs for this assignment, so…”

Akko shoved her things to the side of the table to give Dianaa place to set her own notebook down, and the blonde gracefully took her seat.She looked calm and serene, which was surprising given the frantic thoughts runningthrough her head.

It didn’t surprise either of them how begrudgingly Akko wentthrough the questions, with Diana mostly just trying to convince her of the valueof hard work as an extant concept. In about five minutes, the most they hadmanaged to accomplish was putting both their names down on top of the paper.

“I just don’t get why teachers like to cram us with allthese little assignments…” Akko said, twirling her pencil around. “I mean, sheprobably won’t even check this at the end, so it’s a little pointless, isn’tit?”

“They’re not pointless.It’s important to have practice with these concepts if you’re going to understandthem for the exams.”

“Yeah, but her instructions make no sense anyway. What even is this stupid equation she wants us todo? Like it’s all these weird G’s and x’s…how do you keep these straight?”

Diana glanced down at Akko’s notebook. Interspersed throughall the cutesy doodles, Akko had made an attemptto copy down the equations Lukić wrote on the board. Though not all of them, andwith one of the most crucial ones, she had simply stopped halfway through.

“Take this one for example, Akko.” She gestured to it. “It’sover r squared, not just over r.”

“What? But she said…”

“Here, if think of it more like this, it should make iteasier to follow.”

What happened next was mostly Diana’s fault. She neverreally did group projects, so shewasn’t even thinking when she started writing in her notebook in front of herwithout moving it. She actually had caught herself and was about to tilt thepage so Akko could actually see what she was doing, but Akko had already leanedover, unintentionally pressing their shoulders together.

(Diana’s heart was pounding again. Mother would be ashamedif she knew how weak her baby girl had become…)

“Oohhh! Is that how you’re supposed to do it?” Akko asked, eithernot noticing or not caring that she was all but leaning atop of the other girl.“That’s not how they taught it at my last school. Weird.”

“It…” Diana nodded. “I suppose I can imagine some of the…erm,letters and such and such might change depending on the…the language. That’s whyit’s important to practice, after all.”

“Yeah, but you did a better job explaining it than Mrs. Lukićdid. I guess I’ll have to remember this way for later then. Thanks.”

Akko took her notebook for a moment so she could copy downthe explanation into her own notes, and she quickly flashed Diana a gratefulsmile as she settled back into her own seat.

(oh god, her hair smelled really nice.)

“Think nothing of it,” is what Diana said at last. “…So.Aside from this, how have you been…adjusting to the new school?”

Akko simply shrugged. “It’s okay, I guess. I miss my oldfriends, but I met a lot of nice people here already, so it’s not so bad. Yourguys’ lacrosse team is a lot better than my old one at least!”

“You enjoy lacrosse then?” And what a shockingly goodquestion to ask her that was, because obviously she carried the stick aroundjust for fun.

But thankfully, Akko leapt at the chance to talk. “It’s the greatestsport there is! We’re totally gonna be going to nationals soon, I’m sure of it!I’m gonna be the best player on the entire team before the end of the year.”

“That’s…a lofty goal. But it’s good to set your sights high.After all, you don’t get the things you dream of, you get the things you workfor.”

Akko gasped excitedly at the lyric. “Oh my gosh, do you listento Chariot’s albums too?!”

“I’ve…overheard a song or two, yes. I just thought it seemedrelevant to the conversation.”

Akko laughed out loud. “You know, you’re a nicer person thanI thought, Diana! We should do more group stuff together some time!”

“Oh, that would be nice. I’d really like to spend more timegetting to know you better.”

“Really…?” Akko looked at her curiously.

Diana clamped her mouth shut. The calm expression she tried to take was betrayed by the visiblyhot blush spreading across her features.

No, she couldn’t lose her calm here. Friends could want toget to know each other better too, after all. Right? And every second she sather staring silently at Akko made her look more guilty. All she needed to dowas calmly explain what she meant in that context.

“I-”

“5 more minutes!” Lukić called out. “I expect you all to haveeverything answered…”

Akko quickly snapped back to her. “Oh shoot, we gotta finishour assignment, right?”

“Right. Right, the assignment.”

Diana picked up her pencil and set to work, and after a moment,Akko tossed Diana’s notebook back with the rest of Diana’s stuff, and set to helpingher finish.

Fortunately, they managed to finish all the questions intime.

After the assignments were collected, everyone returned totheir seats. And as for Diana, she spent much of the remainder of class stewingin her own gay frustration. She must have run through the entire conversationin her head 5 times a minute, picking apart every stupid thing she said. Shewas supposed to be good at speech,how did she do so bad at talking to one person? Akko must think she’s an idiotnow.

Lukić told them to remember to bring their textbooks fornext class, and Diana moved to write it in her notebook. But she paused, lookingat the top margin.

That note written there…that definitely was not her handwriting.She looked at the note more closely. It read;

‘got a game Friday at4pm!! you should come cheer me on! :3

Akko ♪’

Diana could not stop the grin from taking over her face. Hannahand Barbara would never understand the intensity in which she stared at thescribble at the top of the page.

She spent the rest the night trying to lay the perfectoutfit out for Friday.

[jungnoir]

tulips;

⇢ summary: “tulips, the beautiful you. tulips, so lovable.”

⇢ relationship: lee donghyuck/reader, a bit of wong yukhei/reader but kinda not.

⇢ genre: barista!au, college!au, fluff, minor angst.

⇢ words: 9k

⇢ warnings: none!

a/n: inspired by a conversation with @goldenscript​ and also slightly by her rival baristas au!! happy birthday, baby girl~ music for this - tulips by snuper.

“Don’t you have to meet up with your boyfriend right about now?” The mischievous Lisa raises a brow from beside you, her russet hair brushing your skin with how little proximity she allowed when you walked together. You’d grown used to her need to be close to everyone she was around; despite the fact, her voice was very much amplified regardless of how close she was or how loud the environment was. You have to grip her elbow and squeeze to even get a reaction out of the girl, a squeak leaving her mouth followed by a laugh. “My circulation!”

“I’ll cut more off than your circulation if you keep yelling.” You hiss at her but there is no malice, just an undeniable amount of embarrassment at the mention of Donghyuck. It had gotten to the point where you didn’t even have to ask her to clarify who she meant, and if any of your other friends had done the same thing you still would have been well aware. You had never meant for it to get this far. Seriously.

Lisa snorts, “I’m not yelling! That was my inside voice,” she emphasizes this by speaking even louder this time, drawing several students’ attention her way and making you laugh into her shoulder, “and I know he’s probably anxiously waiting for you to arrive so he can take your order and make googly eyes at you while you try to look like you’re not making googly eyes at him.”

She widens her already large eyes to a comical level at you and makes a face that you assume is to mock your own. Your own eyes narrow, “Lisa, those long legs of yours make you look really good in a skirt but also make it super easy to shove you over, you know.”

Giggling nervously, Lisa moves away from you quickly and wraps her arms around her chest in a defensive stance. “Just saying... anyway, do you want a ride? I’m going by there to pick up Chaeyoung for our date.”

You grin at her and nudge her shoulder, “Date...?” “Not like that!” Her cheeks immediately go rosy, “but yeah, we’re going to an archery training course and then for pho afterward.”

Your walk with Lisa spills into the parking lot and you absentmindedly follow her on her way to her convertible, the taste of your favorite drink already gracing your taste buds, “Be careful or she might aim for your heart.”

Lisa spins quickly to scold you for teasing her but has nothing to say when you smirk. She knew just as well as you did that this was karma, and if anyone was more head over heels in like with someone, it was Lisa Manoban with Park Chaeyoung. It was actually pretty cute watching the usually cheeky girl become a blubbering mess in the face of her crush (and happened to produce a lot of really good blackmail in the process).

You grab the handle to the passenger door of her bright red car and wink, “So what were you saying about my “boyfriend”, future Mrs. Park?”

Quickly checking the time on your phone, you give Lisa a short “thanks” and part ways the minute she parks outside of the shop, trying not to look as eager as you feel the closer you get to the towering glass doors that separated you from your drink, and most importantly... Lee Donghyuck.

You had met Donghyuck two months ago at the beginning of the semester, when you’d realized that five classes were going to be the test of your sanity in your young life so far. Needing to cram for three different tests assigned not even halfway through the second week of school had you somewhat in a crisis. With your roommate being not the most helpful study partner and your friends already being too consumed in their own classes with no time to spare to help you, your last ditch attempt was to do the aesthetic thing to do and find a cute cafe to focus in. You hadn’t meant to stumble upon Donghyuck in a messy ponytail and yesterday’s sweatpants, but he didn’t pay any mind with his sunny disposition and glittering smile. You still remembered the moment you locked eyes with him over the counter after having double and triple checked that you hadn’t left any of your textbooks behind at your dorm. You still remembered when he smiled at once and his light voice caressed your ears with a “What can I get you today?”

You had been adamant about getting a strong black coffee that would be bitter enough to turn your will to steel and force you to finish your homework instead of procrastinating and falling into despair. However, the minute he looked at you with those honey eyes, you were spewing whatever BS that would come out just to fill the silence, “What do you recommend?”

Your question shocked him for all of three seconds before he perked up even more (if that was even possible), his hands flying around animatedly as he pointed at the faux chalkboard menus positioned above and behind his head, “Oh, all kinds of things! Drink wise, there’s this one called the Choco Supreme Mocha Frap that is loaded with espresso chips and whipped cream and chocolate syrup,” you swore his eyes sparkled as he described it, “but that one is ice cold. If you’re looking for something hot, I suggest the hot chocolate. Simple, a good amount of chocolate but not as much as the Choco Supreme Mocha Frap, and actually one of my favorites during the winter.”

“Then I’ll have that.” You said, not really thinking.

“The frap or hot cocoa?” He tilted his head to the side cutely, brown hair looking copper in the sunlight that beamed through the coffee shop windows.

“C...Cocoa.” You stuttered out, just managing to look away from his inquisitive gaze in lieu of taking out your money. He had smiled out of the corner of your eye and you were still glad to this day that you had been looking away, just in case his smile might’ve sent you flushed with legs of jelly on your way over to your table for the rest of the afternoon.

Once you’d handed him the money, he quickly glanced back behind him at an array of small desserts lining the other side of the counter, “Would you like a chocolate muffin to go with it?”

Boy, does this kid love chocolate or what?

You just shook your head no, “The cocoa will be sweet enough for me.”

A small, painfully adorable pout appeared on his lips and you suddenly took note of the several little moles dotted across his skin like kisses, “Worth a shot. It’ll be out in a minute. Can I have your name?”

You had prepared yourself to just disappear once he’d given you your change, so out of surprise, you blurt, “Why?”

He blinks, then laughs, and if you weren’t already embarrassingly smitten before, you definitely were now. The twinkling bells of his laughter made you fidget in place, suddenly very aware of how accusatory that sounded. Once he comes down from his amusement, he flutters his eyelashes at you, “Why? I need to know the name of the person I’m going to ask out on a date tonight.”

Despite how cleanly he had delivered the bad pick-up line, you couldn’t help but giggle out of your own volition in response, the sound of your own giggle causing a similar reaction to bubble out of the mystery barista’s mouth. “You have a sweet laugh,” he says nonchalantly, “I guess I better keep you laughing...?”

He holds out for your name, and this time you give it up without a fight. His nose scrunches as he repeats it back to himself, looking away for the first time as he repeats it under his breath, “Got it! I won’t forget you.” “But... what if I don’t come back?” You ask.

“Then you’ll be the one that got away.”

It hadn’t been that long since you’d first met the boy who you later learned was named Donghyuck, but it had felt like the two of you had been friends for years. The lame pick-up lines and shitty puns you two shared between each other when you’d come to get your cocoa fix (something he’d managed to get you hooked on against your will) had started to pile up. When you were stressed over homework or group projects with less-than-willing partners, you would find your solace in Donghyuck. He could make you laugh so hard your sides would be hurting the next day; after all, he had to keep true to his word.

Your friends had found you running off to the shop at all hours of the day, and after having learned Donghyuck’s schedule, you began to go exclusively during his shift just to see him and have some hot cocoa. It had become a thing that whenever you entered, no matter what Donghyuck was doing, Donghyuck would be in charge of taking care of your order. Some days, you’d come in for lunch and other days you would come in just to chat and run. Whatever the case might’ve been, everyone who worked at the cafe and every one of your friends were aware of the fact that you and Donghyuck were a duo never to be separated, never to be without the other. Your friendship began to span outside of the cafe walls when you’d learned he attended your university as well, and though you’d never seen him around on campus before, he had begun to make a habit out of trying to find you and vice versa. It wasn’t out of the ordinary to be greeted by an arm slung around your shoulder and Donghyuck asking you what you were doing later, even if he couldn’t participate.

The coffee shop was your playground though, the sacred place in which you and Donghyuck could slack off on homework and work work in the back and talk about any and everything. He’d run before his manager would notice he wasn’t on duty, and would reserve his breaks for when you’d show. He’d always claim that the shop was far too boring when you weren’t around, and you would claim that the only reason you came back was for the hot cocoa (it wasn’t, and so many people knew it too).

It almost felt cheapening to say that Donghyuck was “just a friend”. Did just-friends make those eyes at each other all the time? Did they smile coyly at each other to give away an unbidden promise of more in between the lines? Did just-friends squirm at the mere idea of only being that: friends? No, certainly not, but no one was confirming anything more any time soon. Timing, he’d claim. Reassurance, you’d reason.

You’d always thought it pretty harsh for Lisa to tell you that dating was “first-come, first-serve”. Sometimes, coming to her for dating advice was like getting teeth pulled; you never knew what impulsive, exciting thing she’d tell you to do if you so much as mentioned a crush or potential partner. The worst thing was the guilt you’d feel after hearing her advice. A worry unlike any other would envelop your insides and make you feel a little seasick at the thought that “you’ll never know if you don’t try”.

Was it wrong for you to not mind taking it slow, seeing where things with Donghyuck might lead? Was it so terrible that you liked the easiness between you and wanted that easiness to last? Possibly... in her eyes. Possibly in your eyes too.

If there was anything you knew best about life, it was that nothing easy lasted.

It didn’t register that you’d been staring too long at the entrance to the coffee shop until someone walking past gave you a questioning glance. It read very clearly to you that you might look a bit strange just standing there, not moving, so you quickly push yourself into gear and settle on ignoring your heavy feelings. After all, this was just another casual meeting with Donghyuck. In fact, you were sure the minute you saw him, you’d feel at ease once more.

Only, when you enter, he is not there like usual.

You stand off to the side, diligently scanning the entire cafe, but no copper-headed firecracker was in sight. It was so unlike him not to be here; maybe you were too used to his presence, never once thinking about him having to take a sick day or day off because he was such a constant. The shop surely didn’t have the same aura it usually did without him, and maybe you might have picked up on that outside if you weren’t so spaced out today.

No, the shop didn’t have the same aura. Instead of missing anything however, it seemed to have gained something else in its place. And that something was currently inviting you over with a smirk that neither teetered on smug nor cheesy.

You’d never seen this one before.

You’re momentarily shocked by your height difference, and then you’re even more shocked when the person standing in Donghyuck’s usual spot speaks up without a care in the world, “Well, hello there. Can I get you anything?”

He’s relaxed, terribly in his element despite the fact that you’re almost certain he hasn’t been here before today as an employee. You’re sure you’d never miss someone like him, and you’d been here at all times of the day. You’d never seen anyone on shift like him. There was no way you could forget a face and aura like this guy’s, not in the slightest. You also find you’re not very displeased by this new discovery.

Sauntering over on auto-pilot, you look from his eyes to his folded arms as he leans down to rest them on the counter, the sleeves of his baby yellow sweater rolled up past his elbows to reveal honey skin. His fingers poke out and you see the glitter of several metal bands sitting above his knuckles. Drawn by the sheer broadness of his shoulders and the features of his face that dare you to try and ignore them, you completely brush over his question to ask the most pressing one in your mind, “Who are you?”

While someone else might have been turned off by this, confused at most, the guy just laughs. He has a cute, high pitch to his laugh that faintly reminds you of Donghyuck, but when he speaks, his voice is low and scratchy, “You asked me that like I’m in trouble... I’m not, am I?”

Not yet, maybe. You’d make up your mind once you figured out why Donghyuck was missing and why this giraffe-like boy was in his place. “No... it’s just... I’m used to someone else being here around this time.”

The boy hums in understanding, smirk forming into a pensive line instead. He seems to seriously consider your statement before suddenly unfolding one arm and snapping his fingers, “Is the person you’re looking for like way smaller than me? Round face, tanned skin, kinda excitable?”

You let out a small laugh at the description, finding that Donghyuck fits it quite well in reality. You nod, “That’s the one. Answers to Donghyuck, as well.”

The boy flashes his pearly whites at you. He straightens his back, places one hand on the counter (you try to keep your eyes from rolling out of their sockets when the expanse of his fingers splayed out before you takes up more space than a plate), and then answers, “I took his shift so he’s got a new one. Quite last minute but... I was also a last minute hire.”

Ah, so that’s why you’d never seen him.

Your look of understanding also comes with an underlying relief. So he wasn’t gone like you’d been quietly dreading, not completely. He was just working another time... but once the relief had passed, then slight disappointment arose. Why, if it was just like routine that you’d both meet here everyday, didn’t he let you know he was working a different time? You got it was last minute, but a quick text would- no, you weren’t going to get legitimately upset over something as small as this. He probably didn’t have time. You weren’t the only one in college, and it sure as hell wasn’t like the semester wasn’t diving into full swing by now. He probably had more on his plate than he let on, and maybe the new time allowed him better working around his class schedule.

Whatever the reason he hadn’t told you, it didn’t matter. You were here now... you’d see him later, surely.

“Do you still want to know who I am, or has this magical genie granted all your wishes already?” He asks, a bit of anticipation in his words. He wanted you to ask, for reasons you weren’t... privy to, not yet.

It couldn’t hurt, right? Donghyuck or not, this was still your usual break time. “I’m sure the genie could cough up a name.”

He grins again, and my god was it infectious, “You can call me Yukhei. ‘The guy who stole Donghyuck’s shift’ might be a mouthful.”

“Yukhei,” his name rolls off your tongue experimentally as you chance a glance at the boy in question to see if you said it right; he nods at you in confirmation, eyes flashing minutely when he hears you say it, “nice to meet you. I’m (Y/N).”

Yukhei looks away from you, sighing your name once, then twice, then several times one after the other like a tongue-twister. He locks eyes with you when he utters it one last time, “Said it right?” Something about his smile tells you that he’s certain he has, but he asks anyway. The tease.

You raise your chin at him and mirror his smile, “Yeah, perfectly.”

Yukhei seems ready to say something else. His lips part and a sound barely gets past his lips before he notices a new customer rounding up behind you, looking a bit impatient when he observes that both you and Yukhei seem to be deep in friendly conversation and not actual business. Not wanting to get scolded on his first day, Yukhei shoots you an apologetic smile and nods subtly at the person behind you, “Anything else for you?”

You catch on quick. You rattle off your usual order and watch as he inputs it on his computer before turning to you to take your money. The exchange of payment is over in seconds, your fingers brushing the cool rings around his fingers and sending a spark of something across your skin. You gnaw on the inside of your cheek as he tells you your order will be out soon, barely prepared for the wink he sends your way before turning his full attention onto the customer behind you. You take your cue to move to the side, all the while catching your breath that you were unaware you had been straining to breathe in the process of talking to Yukhei.

Normally, you were only relaxed like this with Donghyuck. In fact, the two of you had hit it off so quickly that you’d never thought you’d do so with anyone else. Yukhei’s energy was similar to Donghyuck’s, but something told them apart to you. It was small and you hadn’t a clue what it was, but it was big enough to be perceptible by you.

Talking to Yukhei had dulled your disappointment in not seeing Donghyuck today, but that feeling came back tenfold the minute you moved away from the register. Because, even if Yukhei was entertaining to talk to, he wasn’t... Donghyuck.

You slip your phone out of your pocket and into your hand. There’s no messages from him.

You’re tempted to send him one when you hear Yukhei call your name. Blinking out of your daze to face him, he holds out your drink and winks at you, “Come back here at seven. Donghyuck.” And then the “genie” is back to work, even your silent wish granted.

“Before you get mad, I was neck-deep in midterms today and didn’t get a chance to tell you. Please don’t injure me.”

Donghyuck grimaces when you enter the shop with a slight sharpness to your stare. It wasn’t usually your thing to come here so late into the day, the sun on the horizon but not quite gone yet, so the atmosphere feels a lot sleepier, but calmer nonetheless. You appreciate the feeling in comparison to the hectic-ness of the afternoon when everyone and their mother was crowded inside the shop with the collective patience spanning the length of a string of pasta.

You raise an eyebrow but do nothing of the sort, motioning for him to follow you to your usual table. You watch him call for break, his fellow co-worker (Doyoung was his name, you’d met a few times before) scoffing from his spot across the shop, slouched deep in a booth with his phone pressed up close to his face as if to say “don’t bother me”.

Donghyuck is sitting across from you minutes later, “You’re not mad? I felt really bad, you know.” He turns on the puppy-dog eyes as soon as he says so, fluttering eyelashes on full display.

As endearing as the show of cuteness is (and as disarming as it is, as well), you still feign upset with him, some of it actually real, “I was hurt, Lee. Real hurt.”

Donghyuck whines and shuffles in his seat, practically throwing himself over the table to get up all in your space. Bottom lip jutted out comically, Donghyuck is doing the most, “I was gonna make it up to you by buying you dinner during my new shift!”

Your ears perk up at this, “Was?” “Am,” He corrects, slipping back into his seat tentatively, “am buying you dinner. What would you like? It’s all on me.”

Donghyuck dresses differently in the evening shift. While usually, you’d catch him in a sweater not too different in comparison to Yukhei’s, he had went for a graphic tee sporting a nerdy pun that you didn’t get. Donghyuck’s bright personality almost didn’t fit in the atmosphere, what with the day winding down and the customers sticking to dark, muted colors in their attire and makeup. It was poetic and calm; you had to admit that the cafe felt much better to be in when it wasn’t that busy and wasn’t that early.

You fix him with your stare only a few moments longer before breaking out into a smile. Donghyuck’s shoulders immediately fall in gratitude of your mercy, his head slumping forward while quiet, whispered tales of thanks flew out of his mouth so fast you wondered how he didn’t stumble over a word. Then, he shot his head back up at you and met your smile with his own, “So, you missed me, huh?”

Your smile contorts into an expression of mild annoyance, your foot rising and hitting Donghyuck lightly in the shin. He bites his lip to ignore the pain, but keeps that same giddy look on. He’s absolutely beaming at the thought that you had missed him. Had actually felt upset that he wasn’t there today when you thought he would be. You cared enough to crave his presence. “I was mad that you weren’t there to give me your friends and family discount, actually.”

Donghyuck is already on cloud nine and your sarcasm doesn’t tug him off any time soon, “You missed me. Don’t worry, I think you’ll like this time of day much better than the afternoons. Thank god for new meat.”

At the mention of new meat, Yukhei flashes back in your mind, “Oh, yeah, speaking of... that Yukhei guy sure is something.”

Donghyuck blinks, laughs, then shrugs his shoulders, “I guess. If by ‘something’ you mean a lifesaver for taking up the hell shift.”

“Well, yeah. But he’s also really nice and friendly! I was surprised by how cool he looked on his first day, you know? We both remember Mark on his first day.” “Mark has been a ball of nerves since birth so he’s an outlier to that rule, but still,” plucking the salt shaker from the little basket off to the side of the table, Donghyuck begins rubbing the glass container between the palms of his hands at a slow speed, “some people are just made for retail.”

You chuckle, “He sure seemed it.”

Donghyuck reaches across and before you know it, he’s tapped your nose with the pad of his finger. You do nothing but stare at his offending appendage, dangling above your skin for a minute before he yanks it back to his body (because he knows better than to leave any part of him in biting distance when he’s invaded your personal space like that), “Hey,” he starts, “how can you talk about another barista in front of me?”

If you didn’t know better, you’d think Donghyuck was mildly jealous with the way his voice bordered on a whine. You had always been kind and friendly to the other baristas you met at the cafe or who Donghyuck introduced you to on campus, but he had never had a problem with that much. You’d ask about them in conversation, talk to them in class, wave to them when passing. Donghyuck had never had a problem with that. He had even encouraged it, wanting you to know everyone in his life.

It was only Yukhei, then? Maybe because he was new to the both of you. A stranger who had suddenly walked into your lives and Donghyuck hadn’t had a chance to get a reading on him yet, not before you. That seemed most logical in this situation to you.

You raise an eyebrow, “Wasn’t I promised dinner?”

Donghyuck seems to remember his promise he’d made only minutes ago at the same time as you. Instead of prying about Yukhei more, Donghyuck shuffles out of his seat and mumbles something about retrieving your menus before you’re left completely alone at your table. Your eyes can’t help but follow the boy on his way to the counter, your curiosity misting over your expression in the form of squinted eyes and a twisted lip. You don’t know what it is about him today that’s throwing you off, but this is seriously throwing a wrench in your usual routine.

Regardless, you’re able to push away those thoughts as Donghyuck and you both order something to eat (his choice being light, seeing as he’d have to get back to work soon) and begin to catch up what you’d missed throughout the day. Usually, you both would catch up on only so much in the afternoon before texting about it later, but having gone without talking to him for almost a whole day, he’s overflowing with even more to say. Part of you actually prefers hearing his long-winded days described in grand hand gestures and bulging eyes and impersonations of everyone that he’d come across on campus.

Were you a stranger on the outside looking in, you’d think that you and Donghyuck went to different schools and lived totally different lives. He always had some funny story to tell or exciting event going on in his life and you often wondered if you just didn’t get out enough. Maybe it was the difference in majors? It took you a while to learn that it wasn’t that your lives were so vastly opposite each other. Your lives were practically the same, only, Donghyuck had such a rosy outlook on it that changed what you viewed as the simply mundane drastically.

Your dinner ends quickly, Donghyuck having to finish up his shift when a couple of night owls make their way into the cafe. You take your leftovers and bid him farewell, and soon you’re back home as per usual. The times may have changed, but Donghyuck is still very much an important part of your day. Tomorrow will be just like normal again, you’re certain.

You have to remind yourself not to be so spooked when you see Yukhei in Donghyuck’s place again, in a baby blue button up. He doesn’t have nearly as many rings on today as he did yesterday, but there’s still a few that glitter in the sunlight as he waves to patrons he’d seen yesterday, faces memorized already. You are no exception, catching his attention and immediately making him perk up when you approach the register, “Same as yesterday?” He inquires. If he remembers, you would really applaud him.

You affirm it, impressed when he doesn’t ask you to clarify, and then you add on a small bowl of soup on the side because your breakfast hadn’t quite stuck to your ribs like you’d wanted it to. Yukhei has no trouble ringing about that exact order, but he moves a little slowly as there aren’t many customers around at the moment. “I’m surprised you can remember faces and orders after only one day.” You tell him, leaning to the side as he begins to prepare your drink while finishing up processing the order. You slide your card to him and he thanks you under his breath.

“I’m really good with that when I wanna be. To be honest though, I only remember your order because you left the best impression.” He puffs up in pride when you snort, but nevertheless laugh, in amusement. “What? I speak truth.”

“Do you? I couldn’t have been the most memorable part of your shift yesterday.” You combat his “truth” with something more believable; even a boy as evidently friendly as he couldn’t bother to remember such a minute detail, right?

Yukhei shakes his head like he can’t believe you, sliding your card and a receipt back to you once the price has been paid, “You underestimate how memorable you are.”

What was with this coffee shop and handsome boys flirting with you? Sheesh.

Instead of answering (because you don’t have confidence you’ll get many coherent words out anyway), you slip to the side and wait patiently as he gets to work on your drink, putting in an order for your soup at the same time. Figuring it’ll be a while, you turn and begin to make your way to your table... but someone is already there.

With sunglasses too big for his face and shoulders hunched over to somehow disguise him, Donghyuck stares directly at you with a small pout on his face before whispering for you to come over. Surprised, and a little worried, you do as you’re told.

The boy is dragging down his glasses to stare at you over them, his eyes squinted in suspicion, “You two are awfully chummy.”

You look over at Yukhei for confirmation that yes, that’s what Donghyuck is referring to, “Are you- what are you doing in those ridiculous glasses, Hyuck?”

Donghyuck scowls, “They’re not ridiculous, they’re Doyoung’s hangover glasses I stole from his car when he drove me home last night. And as for what I’m doing... I’m scoping out the fresh meat.”

“So... spying on Yukhei.”

“It’s not spying! I’m doing this for the good of the cafe! I can’t have some kid smearing my months of hard work and dedication and ruining my regulars’ days, sorry not sorry.”

“Seems more plausible that you came to see me, actually. Worried I might prefer Yukhei more?”

Donghyuck looks seriously offended that you’d even insinuate such a thing. He reaches over to flick your forehead but you’re quicker, smacking his hand back to the table before he can inflict any pain on you. He hisses at your hard hit, muttering about how heavy-handed you are. As silly as the glasses are on him (and it’s much funnier to talk to him like this, really), you reach over this time to slip them off. Donghyuck flinches when he thinks you’re about to deliver a blow to the middle of his forehead only to feel the bulky glasses slip away from their spot perched on his nose and into your waiting hands. You fold them up and slide them back to him, smiling sweetly, “You look a lot better like that.”

Donghyuck, lightly flushing, raises his shoulder to shield his expression from you. “I didn’t by the way,” he grumbles, “come to see you, I mean. This is strictly surveillance.”

You nod, not buying it at all, “Wanna share my drink with me?”

Donghyuck flushes even deeper, dropping his shoulder in surprise to show his cheeks gleaming strawberry on display. When you giggle right after, he knows you’d only said it to fluster him. Lightly kicking your shin under the table like you’d done the night before, he manages to get you to shut up at least a little.

When Yukhei calls you over to retrieve your order, Donghyuck watches you walk over with slight contempt. It wasn’t that he was jealous - no, far from it - it was just a little easier to fool himself into believing that you didn’t just come to the cafe because it was convenient and nearby, but that you also enjoyed his company too. After all, it had become very much a part of his everyday just like it had become a part of yours... and he hoped you thought of the time you got to spend with each other as highly as he did.

You two had formed a friendship over the few months that it took for you to get used to each other, and he was grateful that when he got the chance to see you outside of the shop he could. He was also grateful for the constant streams of texts between the two of you day in and day out, but he wished so greatly that maybe one day it could be something more than that.

His friends had inquired time and time again why he hadn’t taken that next step, that tentative leap from friends to something more. The opportunities were there, sure, but his confidence was a long way behind him.

Would you even want something like that with him? Wasn’t he just someone you knew? Someone on campus to talk to? Someone to fill your dull breaks at the cafe with a little life and laughter? Wasn’t he just temporary?

You float back over before he can clear his grim look off his face. Soup and drink in hand, you squint at his dejected look and wonder what in the world could have happened between you getting up to approach the counter not fifteen feet away and your return that could make him look that down all of a sudden.

“Hyuck?” You call his nickname in a delicate voice, sparking him out of his little stupor. The boy in question blinks up at you. “Something the matter?”

“Hm... me? No, nothing. Just... thinking about how we’re gonna have to extend this observation into tomorrow. Looks like there’s no strong evidence here for his case.” Donghyuck clears his throat and steals your drink while you’re busy blowing on your spoonful of soup, taking a long drag through the straw that has you dropping your spoon in awe.

“I asked if you wanted to share not steal!”

Yukhei watches from his perch at the counter, inquisitive eyes finding you and Donghyuck when he wasn’t serving customers. He can see you trying to wrestle your drink out of Donghyuck’s hand and pretty much failing with the table as a barrier, but that’s only before you get up and try to tackle it out of him. He knows that with anyone else, he might have been concerned, if not incredibly proactive in getting you two to settle down before scaring off the customers, but all he can do is smile knowingly. He wasn’t just observant with customers and coffee after all.

Your “stake-out” with Donghyuck doesn’t last just until the next day. No, it lasts for fourteen days more.

With the weekends excluded, Donghyuck is popping up at the cafe same time everyday, sharing something small with you sometimes and something a little fuller other times while you both “observe” Yukhei’s work ethic. You would argue that most of it was just the two of you talking and him showing you memes while you try not to choke on your sandwich, but he world argue that he had one eye for you and one eye for Yukhei. He could multitask. You just enjoyed his company.

Lisa had shared her thoughts on the matter, that of which you completely brushed aside because she still referred to Donghyuck as your boyfriend. In fact, that was probably the only reason the two hadn’t met yet. You were worried she’d say something too secret and then spoil your whole dynamic with Hyuck. That, and you were seriously troubled by the thought that the two of them set free together might literally implode your city. But mainly just the former.

The matter of what you were doing for your birthday didn’t rear its ugly head to you until a few days prior when Donghyuck, out of the blue, decided to ask you what you were doing for the big day.

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly, “probably nothing. It’s just another day.”

Donghyuck, ever the party person, scoffed. Today, he was sharing a steaming plate of nachos with you while chopping the jalapenos in half with a tortilla chip. Yukhei had definitely gotten into his groove here in the time allotted. Sometimes, he’d switch between the register and fluttering around the cafe to personally serve drinks and the like, so you would sometimes get him assigned to your table (much to Donghyuck’s chagrin at first. you had claimed it gave him a much more up close and personal observation, though. he claimed you just liked the way Yukhei’s arms flexed when holding a tray of food. you didn’t fight him on that).

“You’re at least going to dinner, right?” He prods.

“What’s this about dinner? Are you finally going somewhere else for a date? And here I thought Hyuck was just a cheapskate.” Yukhei appears next to you out of nowhere, one cup of steaming hot cocoa for Donghyuck and another cup of the same for you. Yukhei’s piled more marshmallows on your cup just to get on his bad side, Donghyuck just knows it.

The pair of you snap your heads to a grinning Yukhei who dusts his hands off on his apron, “No!” You both say at the same time.

“Sounds like a lie. Anyway, what are we doing for your birthday, (Y/N)?” Yukhei turns his full attention to you, genuinely curious. You’re not sure if he’d actually overhead the whole conversation or if he really just remembered it was coming up, but regardless, you were a little too stunned to answer right away. You hadn’t expected either of them being very interested in your birthday, other than knowing to wish you one on the day of and maybe dish out a little something to give you for managing to stay alive this long.

“I already asked that...” Donghyuck grunts.

Honestly, you hadn’t planned much at all for your birthday. You expected to spend it with your family. Maybe you’d get a cake. Maybe you’d ask for something. Really, it was just another day to you at this point. It didn’t really matter if you had a big party or not. You just wanted to be surrounded by the people you loved. You know what...

“I just want to be with the people I care about. That’s all I want for my birthday.”

The two boys look at you, perplexed. They’d honestly been hoping for something along the lines of Chuck E. Cheese’s. That’d be easier to ask to be invited to.

You interpret their loss for words as judgment and sigh, “Sorry it’s not a party or something.”

“That’s not it!” They chime simultaneously. You blink as Donghyuck explains, “We just... wonder... does that include us by any chance?”

So they wanted to be invited, huh? ...cute.

You break into a delighted smile, fiddling with your cup handle to give your hands something to do. “Well... a small dinner at my place won’t hurt, will it?”

In the short span of time that Donghyuck had gotten to know Wong Yukhei, never in his wildest dreams did he think he’d ever corner the guy for advice. No, not even in the nightmares.

Yet here he stands, blocking Yukhei’s path to your front door in what he thinks might be overdressed but what his mother called “cute!” before she’d shoved him out of the door so he couldn’t fret over how he looked a moment longer. He’d combed his hair to the side, slipped into a dark patterned button-down, matching blazer, and jeans rolled up to reveal tawny loafers with his only clean pair of black ankle socks (as long as he didn’t take his shoes off at any point, you’d never notice the Spider-Man print on the top of his feet) poking out. His lips shine with lip balm that instantly has Yukehi stifling a laugh into the back of his hand because he’d never let Donghyuck live this look down. “Looking sharp, Lee. You’re dressed to impress (Y/N)’s mom?”

Donghyuck huffs, miffed, “And you aren’t?” Donghyuck takes a quick survey of Yukhei’s similar outfit, save for the parted hair, rolled legs, and blazer. Yukhei looks relaxed in his outfit at least, where Donghyuck feels utterly out of place. He’d never been this dressed up in front of you before, and he was about to meet your family for heaven’s sake. He had hoped that this would at least come later on when you two were more... acquainted.

Yukhei, calm as ever, knows Donghyuck’s snark is out of fear and therefore feels no reason to snark back. “I have a feeling (Y/N)’ll love it, so don’t sweat it.” At the mention of sweat, Donghyuck does note he feels a little hot and quickly wipes his forehead with the back of his sleeve before it can gloss over into a sheen.

“Can I... ask you something?” Donghyuck requests, knowing at some point the two will have to enter and the chance will be lost on him. He can’t spend all his time squabbling with the boy in front of him forever.

Yukhei reads the mood well. Motions for Donghyuck to continue.

“Will you promise to not make it weird later if something... changes between me and (Y/N) tonight?”

“Weird how? Are you... Hyuck, you’re confessing?”

“Wait- dude, we’ve known each other for two weeks and you already know?” Dumbfounded, the youngest of the two feels his shoulders slacken in disbelief.

Yukhei shrugs as if it’s common knowledge, “You aren’t very opaque when it comes to crushes and all that... it was pretty obvious the minute I saw you two together. And, to answer your earlier question... I won’t.”

Donghyuck wants to worry about how many other people know about this little detail too. Right now though, he’s just glad it seems you’re not one of them. Yukhei makes sure to punctuate this by placing a comforting hand on Donghyuck’s shoulder, turning him to face the front door. “To answer your unspoken question too,” Yukhei says, leading the younger up to the doorbell, “just be honest. I have a pretty good feeling they’ll appreciate that.”

Be honest. Yukhei pushes the doorbell. Just be honest. Say the truth and lay it out flat. You open the door, in all your grandeur, glowing like in his daydreams. Just be- oh hell.

Dinner is the most nerve-wracking hour and a half of Donghyuck’s life, and while he has a usual flair of the dramatic, he’s being completely serious right now.

Your family is lovely, you are lovely... and he’s too choked up to say a thing. He has to eat your mother’s lovely food and hear Yukhei describe it in such exquisite terms and big words and all Donghyuck can manage is a smile and “it’s delicious, thank you”. Donghyuck listens to your family gush about you, your friend Lisa tell embarrassing stories about you, and Yukhei recount your wondrous two-week friendship like you all have known each other for years. Yukhei is everything Donghyuck had expected him to be when in the presence of you and your family and friends. Smart, thoughtful, funny... everything Donghyuck had been hoping he could be.

It was like every time he looked at you, all bright eyes and rosy cheeks and stunning smiles in the comfort of your home around the people you loved... he felt small. What was he doing here, really? Even Yukhei, someone who’d barely known you for a month, could find more material to charm your parents with than Donghyuck could. It made him feel so, so small.

You’ve shot him several questioning looks, rubbed his arm on the way to the living room to open presents, even straight up asked him if he was okay after cutting the cake. There’s some icing on the side of your lip that he wants to kiss off and that’s when he knows he needs to collect himself. “Where’s your bathroom?” He asks, and you laugh lightly. Maybe you thought the reason he looked so uncomfortable and out of place was because he really need to let loose a number two and wasn’t comfortable doing so in your house the first time he was over, on a night like this no less. You’re understanding. You tell him that your friend Wooseok is currently occupying the one downstairs because dinner “got to him too”, and point him to the one upstairs. He is so thankful he can be away from the hustle and bustle downstairs for just a few moments to breathe.

The minute he enters your bathroom, he notices the little things that he assumes belongs to you, and he tries to center himself by turning on the sink and splashing his face with cold water. Thankfully, the dark color of his shirt doesn’t show the sprinkles of water that fall on it in the process.

He grabs a few paper towels and dabs his face dry, attempting to pep-talk himself into being his usual cheerful self again. He was making you worried on your day and that wasn’t fair to you.

On his way out of the bathroom, he doesn’t mean to. He blames it on his tendency to look around and be curious, but when his eyes land on the wide open door to a room that looks like it belongs to you... he’s interested.

He examines what he can from his spot at the bathroom door. Your unmade bed, several different outfits tossed across it and some even strewn on the floor. There’s some cards and gift bags on top of the sheets, no doubt what you’d taken home after classes ended for the day. There’s a stack of books on the bedside table that you’ve got markers poking out of. It’s cute... it’s so you. He doesn’t realize he’s drifted inside until he hears you clear your throat at the doorway.

Donghyuck spins at the speed of light, facing your raised brow and amused expression. He looks fearful, a deer in headlights practically. He didn’t mean to wander in, and he doesn’t think he’s been standing in here that long, so either you’d hiked it up the stairs two at a time or you’d been there the whole time, watching him walk in. The latter seemed highly likely. “I was gonna show you my room later, anyway.” You tell him, walking further in and closing your door till it’s a mere crack. He gulps. “I also wanted to get you alone.”

“Me?” His voice cracks. Nice going, Lee.

You save him his pride and don’t laugh at the slip up, simply strolling over to your window. You push the curtains away, roll up the blinds, and unlock the window. Pushing up the glass panel, a gust of wind floods the room that sends shivers along Donghyuck’s exposed ankles. He’s confused when you get down on your knees beside the window sill, but when you pat the carpet beside you, he’s shuffling over wordlessly.

He opts to sit with his legs folded underneath, sweaty palms turned down so they can soak his jeans. He isn’t sure what to look at, so he just looks at you.

“I can’t believe I’m a year older.” You say quietly. “Can you?”

Donghyuck laughs short and soundlessly, “You’re that much closer to being a senior citizen.”

You snap your head to him and shove his shoulder, eliciting a real laugh out of him this time. “Hey! So are you, kid.”

“Hmph, not me. I’m Peter Pan. I’ll stay forever young.” He says proudly, folding his arms over his chest and straightening his back. In that moment, as his copper hair plays in the breeze, you truly believe him. The lamp light in the corner of the room casts a warm glow on his tan skin, highlighting his cheekbones and enchanting lips. How you’d been thinking of kissing them all night and not doing anything about it was beyond you.

“Then, shall I be Wendy?” You lower your voice, “So I can stay forever young too?”

Donghyuck slowly unfurls his arms, back slouching some, “Well... that means you’ll also be with me forever. Quite the commitment really. Even real-Wendy wasn’t ready for it.”

You bite your lip, wondering if you’re both still talking about the same thing anymore. “Maybe she wasn’t, but... I am.”

You both stare at each other’s eyes for a moment too long, and then you’re frantically turning to look out of the window once more. The air is heavy, so heavy. You can feel every breath and movement that Donghyuck makes from beside you, your knees just barely brushing.

It’s at that moment that the moonlight moves from behind the scattered clouds and suddenly shines on both of you, reminding you instantly as to why you’d opened the window in the first place. The sky is dotted with pretty stars and a gorgeous moon that shines down on the two of you. The promise of your day coming to an end is both sweet and melancholy. The moon seems to tell you “happy birthday, congratulations on another trip around the sun” with just that light that shines down.

“I like to look at the stars here when I come home from university,” you tell Donghyuck, feeling his eyes drift to your face, “it’s really comforting. Sometimes, I’ll turn on my music and look at the night sky and center myself. It’s nice... something I miss when I’m away.”

Donghyuck hums in appreciation, “You don’t see them much in the city. I’d almost forgotten what they looked like, but the moon is always there. It’s comforting.”

You smile softly, nodding in agreement. “Yeah. The moon has seen me do a lot since I came to be on this planet.”

Donghyuck shakes his leg lightly, brushing your knee just a little. He can still hear the others downstairs, enjoying themselves well without the two of you there. It feels like the two of you are on your own other plane of existence, somehow.

Finally, Donghyuck opens his mouth. He’s ready to be honest like Yukhei said. He’s been too chicken all night, it’s only right that he does it now. I mean, he’s been fussing about timing and all that for a while now. What better time than right now would there ever be-

“Donghyuck, I like-”

“-like you.” He finishes your whisper with his own.

He’d... he’d expected a lot on his way here. A refusal, acceptance, a laugh, a downright demand to never see him again even. Among none of the several scenarios he’d thought up did he think that you’d confess at the same time.

“Were you... did you plan to confess tonight? Too?” Donghyuck asks, his elation just slightly muted by his unmitigated doubt. He had really just confessed to his crush of who knows how long. At the same time.

“Yeah!” You half-yell, practically choking on words to snicker instead, “I really did. I’d been rehearsing since last night.”

This was the most “you” kind of confession the two of you could possibly have, perhaps.

Donghyuck and you both just stare at each other, but the smiles that creep onto your faces make their way there all on their own. Donghyuck had run over a lot of scenarios in his head, and yet, not one of them could ever make him feel the way he was feeling right now. If cloud nine had an advanced, VIP branch, he’d be on it for sure.

And, in a very “you” way of being, the two of you are sprawled on the floor in happy laughter that deafens the sounds of talking downstairs easily. Your foreheads nearly knock together as you both roll onto your sides, gasping for breath at the predicament you’d found yourselves in. Finding his eyes with yours when some of it dies down, you exhale happily against his lips, “So, Yukhei... you too?” “Yeah,” Donghyuck nods, “nosy jerk. I kinda thought you liked him.”

You hum, looking down at his lips and their very small proximity to yours. “A nosy jerk who may or may not have been the catalyst to all this.”

Donghyuck also looks down at your lips, the little bit of icing still there in the very corner that he wants to kiss off. Now he knows you’ll let him. “Hm. To-may-to, to-mah-to.”

[bonernas]

A Song of Bobs and Berts

Part 1/7

Word Count: 2,370

Disclaimer: This is a crackfic about the different Bobsonas, based on actor Robert Downey Jr. and his questionable fashion sense. It also includes some hints on other people and things related to the MCU. For more info about the Bobsonas and their respectful creators, please check the link below!

Warnings: rated T, no Bobs were harmed in the making of this fic, mentions of (use of) drugs, swearing, I used the slur “frog eater” at one point, this is a mobster fic set in the noire genre so blood, weapons and violence might become a thing, skipped the typical homophobia and racism tho but a lot of people use roids and crystal

Summary:  When Bobster Di Seta, one of Twunky Town's most feared mobsters, finds out that Boberto Laineux, brother of Bobster's arch enemy, Robert "The Bobfather" Laineux, was elected the city’s new mayor, he needs to put an end to the reign of the french mafia. To infiltrate the Laineux family and increase the sales of his own drugs, he orders his handsome underling, Steeb, to seduce the only heir of the Bobfather: Bobling Laineux, the doe-eyed billionare playboy. But just when Steeb discovers that there's more to the young mobster than good looks and sassy one-liners, their blooming romance is put to the test by a cold-blooded murder. Will the only unbribable cop of Twunky Town's police force solve this case before the city falls into war? Or will the rivalry of the two mobster clans turn everything into ashes?

A Story based on the RDJ spectrum

Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven

Chapter One - A Game of Bobs

Some people might say this is a love story. Some might call it a thriller. Most people would consider it a waste of ink and paper. To be completely honest with you, it’s probably a mix of all three. It’s the story of how I lost not only my job and my sanity, but also my glossy natural curls. It’s the story of my last case.

The year’s 1947. I was a young and ambitious detective at the Twunky Town Police Department, just recently promoted to work at vice. The two rivaling mobster clans, the Di Seta’s and the Laineux’, ruled the city with a firm grip, and the vice squad had their vision plastered with enough bribe to just clean up the aftermath of the drug wars. But not me. I was determined to not become some gangster’s puppet. I joined the TTPD to serve law and justice and not some french mafioso in a scarlet mink and a collection of ridiculous fedoras. But let’s begin with the day it all started going downhill.

The shattering of glass cut through the peaceful atmosphere, followed by a pressed “goddammit!”. Hay rustled when some of the alpacas shifted nervously, moving to the outskirts of the wide, luxurious stable and further away from the angry human and his spilled drink on the fenced patio.

“Mr. Di Seta? You need some help?” A young, blonde man appeared in the top half of one of the dutch doors, hesitant to enter.

Bobster Di Seta, head of the mobster clan, turned down the volume of his oversized mahogany radio and inhaled deeply, one time, two times. He resisted the urge to snap at his subordinate, took one last deep breath and turned around, calm and contained.

“Steeb. Yes, clean up this mess. Make sure to pick up all the shards. I can’t let anything happen to these fluffy little beasts. They cost me enough money already.”

Steeb didn’t bother to open the bottom half of the door and just casually hopped over it, his broad shoulders only one inch from getting stuck in the frame. Bobster caught himself staring a second too long at his employee carefully picking up the broken glass with long, slim fingers. The boy was as meaty and handsome as he was eager to please his boss, and Bobster had to admit that he’d like to give the boy a... promotion. For his good work of course.

“You need anything else, Sir?” The sound of Steebs voice retrieved Bobster from his daydreams, back into the barn with his whiskey spilled on the tiles and the radio silently humming in the background. He almost forgot what made him drop the glass in the first place. Bobster reached over to the small bistro table he usually took his lunch at and grabbed one of the empty crystal bowls, holding it out to Steeb and gestured him to drop the shards into it.

“Can’t have you cut your pretty fingers, right boy?”, he hummed as he placed the bowl back. Steeb, uncertain what to do with his now empty hands, shoved them into the pockets of his slacks, watching his boss strolling over to the railing that separated the patio from the rest of the stable, filled with the most exquisite alpacas in Twunky Town. He’d always wondered why someone would want to brunch in a barn filled with llamas, but he assumed you had to be somewhat extravagant to lead a mob.

Bobster let his eyes wander over the peaceful scenery, the sturdy little camelids cuddled up in heaps of hay, grooming each other or just enjoying the warm patches of winter sun that the broad windows casted on the floor. And that was when he came up with his plan.

“You heard the news already, Steeb?”, Bobster asked as he turned around and faced the nervous blonde after minutes of silence. Steeb frowned.

“Uhm... you mean the election results? Boberto Laineux won with absolute majority, right?”

“Damn right you are, boy. Boberto Laineux, new mayor of Twunky Town. No way this whole election wasn’t rigged. I’d bet half my alpacas his older brother Robert just killed all the voters he couldn’t buy. You heard of him?”

“The Bobfather? Sure did”, Steve blurted, but fell silent when Bobster inhaled sharply with a pained look.

“Don’t- don’t call him Bobfather. His ego is overfed already. Double-faced little bastard. None of my products could ever stand a chance against his Bonguettes and Crystal Crêpes, but did I blame him for that? No, I did my research, I ran tests, and put all my heart and money into a high-end designer steroid based on alpaca saliva. And what did that greedy little frog eater do? Flood the market with down-washed dumpster roids. Swoleabaisse... what kind of name is that even?!”

Steeb shifted nervously. He already heard that Alpacked, the high society’s new anabolic, didn’t sell as well as intended, the french mafia still having the upper hand in drug sales. With the Bobfather’s brother in the mayor’s office it would be even harder to compete against Swoleabaisse’s immense success. Steeb had been a part of the Di Seta clan for barely two years, but he felt like he owed them something for taking him in. A few weeks more on the streets and he’d probably been forced to sell his body for food and shelter. Seeing his boss fed up over these bad news made him quite desperate to help.

“So... what’re we gonna do about Boberto?” Steeb asked. Bobster raised a brow and flashed him a smirk.

“How considerate of you to ask what we are doing about this, Steeb”, he hummed. Slow and smooth he approached the taller man, came to a halt mere inches from his broad chest and looked up, tilting his head and savoring how the blonde’s cheeks flushed under his glare.

“Tell me, boy, if I’d ask you to help me put an end to the Laineux’ reign, would you help me?”

“O-of course, Sir!”

“And if I asked you to do so by infiltrating the french mafia and seducing Robert’s only child, would you still help me?”

Steeb frowned for a second. He had heard of the Bobfather’s heir, Bobling Laineux. Handsome, intelligent, but more interested in throwing parties and crashing venues at his father’s nightclubs than in running a mob. Steeb was well aware of his effect on other people, but he was sure that Laineux Junior was still way out of his league. “Well, I could try... I guess?”

Bobster threw his hands up so suddenly that some of the alpacas nearby startled and stared at him indignantly. “Then it’s settled. Go and meet with Maria, she’ll take care of.. well, whatever you might want to call this outfit. Get yourself dolled up and meet me for dinner at the manor for more details.” Bobster patted Steebs arm and couldn’t resist to give it a light squish. Then, before things could start to get awkward, he quickly strut over to the broad wooden stable door and slipped out into the chilly February afternoon, leaving Steeb with his thoughts and a herd of equally confused llamas.

I didn’t know it then, but young Steeb and I were at the very same venue that night. It was an open secret that Robert “The Bobfather” Laineux had every cop, starting from patrol way up to the chief, under his wing - and he made sure to keep it that way by pampering us every now and then.

And that’s how I found myself crammed between Twunky Town’s rich and famous, pompous chandeliers dangling over my head, faintly glistening in the smoke-filled air of the ballroom. With my colleagues gone the minute we entered and nothing to hold onto but my ideals and a scotch worth a months salary, I roamed through the maze of leather chairs and heavy brocade tablecloths. I found a seat at the very brink of the dance floor, slightly hidden by a huge bouquet of exotic flowers; perfect to sit all by myself and brood over my drink. At a corner table, several feet from my location, a certain young fella was about to make a move.

Steeb ran a hand through his hair for what must’ve been the hundredth time this night. Thank God Maria had used more pomade than he did all week - most of it was probably gone by now. He nipped on his drink and let his gaze drift through the ballroom again, stopping at the corner table like he did all evening.

There he sat, surrounded by a hoard of coquettishly giggling guys and gals, ruffling their opulent gowns and tinkling with heaps of colourful gems. But the young mobster didn’t need any of this. The creamy white suit, hugging his slim shape perfectly, made him stand out like a pearl in an ornament of glass beads. The colour of his dress shirt was the same deep scarlet tone as his château, and the teasing glare he shot over the brim was of the same chocolatey brown as his curls.

Goodness gracious, Steeb really was way out of his league.

But, he was here, he was all dressed up and he had a mission. Just as he decided to down the rest of his drink and finally make a move, his target excused himself and got up. While his admirers continued their chatter, he made a beeline for the bar Steeb was sitting at, casually leaning on the counter next to him.

“Hey, sailor. Don’t think I’ve seen you here before?”, Bobling Laineux hummed with a small nip from his wine, sizing him up cheekily. Steeb felt the mobster’s eyes trace every hint his navy blue suit gave away, and to be honest, it made him tingly. He shifted in his seat, signing for another drink before he faced the handsome mobster, flashing him what he hoped to be a playful smile.

“Nope, my first time here actually”, he answered. Bobling cocked an eyebrow, eyeing the tall blonde up and down a second time. Steeb felt his hands get sweaty. Damn, Bobster really set him up with the sharpest guy in town. Too bad it was all a scam.

“Well, I’d be thrilled to ask you for the first dance then”, Bobling smirked. He didn’t wait for a response, took Steebs hand and gently pulled him on the dance floor. A few other couples were already dancing around them, and they smoothly fit into the fast rhythm of the swing band.

Steeb wasn’t much of a dancer, but with Bobling, he forgot time and place. They twirled and twisted, only inches from the other guests but somehow miles away.  Neither of them spoke much, small talk felt superfluous when each others company was more than enough. Long, intense glares, an occasional smirk and a hand lingering on the small of his back just a few more seconds than necessary, it didn’t take more to make Steeb feel all flustered after the third song.

The band paused and the lights dimmed slightly, a spotlight illuminating the center of the stage. Accompanied by cheers and applause, a lady dressed in emerald green joined the band. Steeb and Bobling mimicked the other couples drawing nearer, slowly swaying to the soft tunes of a ballad. Way closer than before now, Steeb caught a faint hint of Bobling’s exquisite cologne that sent shivers down his spine. He gave his beau a small twirl, and when he tucked Bobling back in, chests flush against each other and his stormy blue gaze meeting shimmering obsidian, it felt like there was no one but the two of them.

“Well, sailor. I don’t think you’ve told me your name yet.” Bobling sounded as suave and playful as always, but the soft pink that tinted his cheeks gave away his true feelings.

“Dorito. Steeb Dorito. A pleasure, Mr. Laineux.”

Oh Jesus, did his voice really sound that croaky? So much for playing it cool. Why didn’t he ask Bobling to leave bite marks on his neck straightaway? That would be way less obvious. Bobling just smiled and said nothing for a few more twirls. But when the song ended and all the other couples stopped for a round of applause, the mobster’s gaze remained on Steeb before he spoke.

“Tell me, darling, if you’d flutter with those long lashes of yours, would I feel a breeze on my skin?”

Steeb smirked. His hand gripped the younger man’s waist more tightly as he leaned in just a few inches, his voice dark and husky as he answered.

“Why don’t you come closer and find out yourself?”

Will Bobling continue to be a thirsty hoe for Steeb? Will Bobster’s evil plan succeed? Will the author get carried away by RDJs everlasting sexappeal again? Will the plot remain a wild mix of cringy crackfic and blooming romance? Will the alpacas ever overcome their trauma? Will there ever be a person, drug or location with a name not mutilated to the point where I should slap myself for writing it? Find out in the next chapter!

A/N: English is not my first language and this is actually the first piece of fiction I didn’t write in German. Therefore my punctuation and grammar might be a bit off sometimes but cc is highly appreciated!

Btw, you can also read this story on ao3!

[sinfulavenue]

Episode 44, Wish Review

(Manga spoilers)

THIS - EPISODE - WAS - FAN - FRIGGIN- TASTIC!!!!

Aajajaxjcjszjcjdxn I feel so illiterate right now, I could literally just keyboard smash for the next minute to convey my excitement over this episode but that would be extremely lazy and this episode deserves better.

After a bit of a difficult beginning to season 3 with my enjoyment at times being marred by deleted scenes and a pace that never stopped to breathe, this episode reminded me why I fell in love with Attack on Titan in the first place. AGH the feels! I think my heart exploded!

It wasn’t just the action that made episode 44 great, it was the emotion. Literally last week I said that emotional detachment was a bit of a problem this season but certainly not in this episode, I was right there with the characters, feeling everything and oh my God it hurt!

EREN!! 💔

I’m woman enough to admit I cried ... and hugged my Eren plushie for an hour afterwards! ….(yes I have an Eren plushie alright and no I can’t sleep without him!)

The soundtrack was damn amazing too! Hands down the best episode of season 3 (so far) but I hope the best is yet to come.

Once again Kenny stole the show!

So the storming the cave scene was just ajsakajxshshcj PHENOMENAL! It was so good! I absolutely think the anime did it better than the manga because we got LEVI VS. KENNY ROUND 2!

Akashsbzk! Sorry for keyboard smashing so much but I’m finding it hard to express myself in proper words right now. My heart literally stopped at that moment when Levi was chasing one of interior MP’s, about to go in for the kill when there’s this almighty YEEEHAA! (or whatever the hell that noise was supposed to be 😂) then a gunshot and suddenly I’m like OH SHIT KENNY’S HERE! 😱 Ajzabsshwjdshs!

I know not all the changes have been popular this season but who the hell is going to complain about an additional Levi vs Kenny scene? I’m so grateful for this addition because while the first Levi and Kenny fight was spectacular, this one felt a lot more up close and personal, Levi fought with such anger and determination and this time there was nobody else getting in the way. The pair were really going for one another, blades clashing.

Thank you so much WIT for this godsend of a shot!

It was just so satisfying to see the uncle and nephew engaged in a one on one battle, creating even greater tension between the two characters before their complex history is finally revealed in a future episode.

Ha! Maybe if Kenny had focussed on actually fighting instead of dishing out sick burns he wouldn’t have got his ass kicked 😂.

I have to say Traute really shone in this scene too, using her wits to figure out what Levi’s squad were trying to do, even avoiding a strike from Mikasa which is saying a lot because that girl is a killing machine!

But please God tell me someone is looking after Hanji!!!

Historia’s Dilemna

In the manga Historia shot Eren a murderous glare before Rod came in with his box of syringes. It’s a shame this was cut but she still still gave him a few severe looking glances showing that her father’s manipulation was starting to work. Historia outright stated that she was going to eat Eren and fulfill her duty.

Kenny sure knows how to make an entrance (although I’m a little confused how he is miraculously no longer bleeding here).

I loved that of all people it was Kenny who tried to talk Historia out of going through with this, even if he was only doing it to spite Rod. Kenny tried to make Historia see that her father is nothing but a manipulative coward who won’t become a titan himself. However it’s a little sad that most of Kenny’s dialogue here was cut (although I guess we can’t really be shocked by cuts anymore 😒). In the manga Kenny outright told Historia that everyone including her father wished she’d never been born and drew her attention to the fact that he only started caring about her when his legitimate children were wiped out. Kenny also mentioned how Rod had tried to hide the fact that the Reiss family had lost the power of the titans and only started spilling when Eren sealed the hole in Trost. It’s a shame that this was cut as it gave some context as to what was happening behind the scenes the whole time and also showed a more perceptive side of Kenny. Keeping his full dialogue would have added even greater build up to Historia smashing the syringe but don’t get me wrong the whole scene was still amazing.

On another note, this episode gave us the first glimpse of Uri Reiss!!!

“I shouldn’t have happened”

OH MY GOD! My boy!! 💔 My poor, poor boy! It hurts even thinking about this scene. To see Eren’s fiery soul so broken ... it was beyond agony. In season 2 Hannes talked about how Eren always got back up, no matter how many times he was knocked down but this time Eren didn’t get up, he was so plagued by guilt for what his father had done that he was willing to die without a fight.

It hurts even more when you think about how he didn’t even had a choice, the titan power was unwillingly bestowed upon him and now he’s caught up in something greater than he is with no way out.

Honestly I think this was one of the saddest moments of the whole of Snk and kudos to Yuki Kaji for that powerful voice acting because it takes a lot to break my heart of stone!

Eren’s feelings of worthlessness clearly sparked a deep empathy in Historia because while he was saying all this we were shown a brief flash of her being rejected by her mother.

“I want you to live a life that you’re proud of”

Oh God and just when I thought I couldn’t get any more emotional, Historia suddenly remembers Ymir and hesitates before injecting herself. Ultimately it’s the words of Ymir that stop her from eating her friend in the name of fulfilling her royal duty.

Aghhh! I was in pieces by this point and when she smashed the syringe to the ground my tears of sadness became tears of joy and I wanted to jump around the room screaming!

Admittedly Historia went a little crazy after that, saying fuck humanity, hitting Eren and calling him a crybaby but cut the girl some slack she’s been through a lot!

OH and about that ending! THAT ENDING!😱 ajwjdwksjdwjefe

This is the most excited I’ve been for the next episode since this season started!!

The Remaining Episodes of the Uprising arc

So I think there is a great possibility that (with great restructuring) some of the skipped scenes will appear in the next few episodes. Here’s why.

So when it was announced that there would be 24 episodes in season 3 it was my assumption that there would be a fairly even split between Uprising and RTS, (as they are both 20 chapters long in the manga) so I reckoned 12 episodes each.

However the Uprising arc ends on chapter 69 and this episode (the 7th episode of season 3) took us to halfway through chapter 66 meaning there are roughly three and a half chapters left to cover. That really isn’t a lot and based on how quick the pace has been, three and a half chapters is unlikely to fill five full episodes. This is what makes me wonder if some of the skipped scenes will be worked in somehow, because if they aren’t then I can see the arc ending by episode 10!

I just want to put this out there. If the Uprising arc is concluded in less than 12 episodes I will be extremely angry and disappointed because this arc deserves better than being crammed into a measly 10 episodes and it certainly deserves just as much screen time as the RTS arc.

The preview of episode 45 looked like it could be setting up for the scene where Levi tells Historia to become the queen and I’m still holding out hope that the rest of Eren’s titan experiments at the cabin will appear in a flashback. I get not having them at the beginning as it wouldn’t have been the most exciting way to kick off a new season but I’ll be pretty sad if those experiment scenes have been cut altogether. Honestly it will be such an anti-climax if Eren just gains the hardening ability without us seeing the blood, sweat and tears he went through trying get hard (hehehe) back at the cabin.

But the real question is how will the arc end? Will we still see Historia punching Levi? If so then how will this come about if all the scenes leading up to this moment are missing? Will these scenes be worked in but in a different way? Or will the ending be completely different?

I realise I have more questions than answers so I guess we will have to wait and find out ... I’m sure WIT have a plan right? 😅

I don’t want to end this review on a sour note because this was such a good episode so instead I will end by saying once again how much I enjoyed episode 44 and I eagerly await episode 45!

[jadekitty777]

I Found My Heart in San Francisco

Another fun fact: Every day this week will have A. Three stories in Qrow’s perspective, B. Three in Tai’s and C. One they share, which was Day 2 of course. I really had the weirdest guidelines when I did this, but I honestly think it provided some of the best personal results.

Day 4 – Love Language/New Hobbies (thinking about it, they kind of both fit but the former was the more intentional choice) @taiqrowweek

Summary: It’s 1967. The Summer of Love has come and passed. Yet, Qrow discovers that even though the season has transitioned into the next, love is persistent. Maybe that was why they called it Falling. [Coffee Shop AU… with a twist!]

Rating: K+                  

Word Count: 13K – yeah this one’s a monster

Warnings: Take the timeline into consideration – definitely some discrimination in this one

Ao3 Link: I Found My Heart in San Francisco

Dedication: This one’s all for marvolo2526. I couldn’t think up another AU idea to complete the circuit and she had yelled ‘coffee shop!’ and then I went wild from there.

Notes: Title is a play off of the 1953 Tony Bennett single "I Left My Heart in San Francisco".

Okay. Oh wow. It’s time to give you all my absolute favorite of the week… and probably overall. This baby took two months of love and care and a BUTT-TON of research to compose. On that note, any historical inaccuracies, if anyone finds any, were either deliberate, accidental, or enough research was unable to be located. I’m very, very proud of this story though, my whole heart went into it, and I really just hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

~

San Francisco

September 18th, 1967

If anyone asked Qrow, he’d tell them patience was only for those who couldn’t figure out how to do things quickly.

Ca-chink!

Like using a cash register. Any twelve-year-old who had a dream of driving up to Harbinger Cliffs to maybe get lucky knew how to use one. He was certainly one of many who had lost countless weekends of his school years selling malts to snot-nosed kids or learning how to balance a tray full of burgers and fries while on rollerblades just to earn some nickels. It all paid off by junior year, when he finally got to roll up to school in his shiny Chevy Bel Air and got treated like a god by his peers. Opening himself up to the social map got him to also meet his high school sweetheart; and while he never took Winter Schnee up to the cliffs, he did get to take her to prom. They latest up until graduation day, where she went off to Atlas while he accepted a scholarship to Beacon. During the first year, he’d wrote letters; but a few months in, she stopped responding and he moved on.

In more ways than one.

“And that’s it!” Summer explained as she showed how to close the sale on the register, shutting the cashdrawer. “Think you got it?”

“Mmm? Yeah, I’m good.” Qrow replied, when in truth he had put more attention into trying to balance one of the red stirrers on his fingertips than listening to her.

His new manager swiped it off his finger and bopped him on the nose with it. “Qrow!”

“Whaaat?” He lent back against the counter. “Come on Sums, I’ve worked register before.”

Her expression only turned further sour, which was not very charming. “I pulled a lot of strings to convince my parents to let you work here, so if there’s even a penny out of place, I’m shoving this up your nose.”

Qrow eyed the stirrer warily, raising his hands in surrender. “Aye, aye, captain.”

Café Rosé was a charming little establishment on the corner of 3rd and Main, conveniently within walking distance of the academy and a college kid’s dream spot for exam cramming or after-party pick-me-ups. Though it had only opened a few years ago, it had done well for itself, having hit the scene just as coffee was becoming a larger fad among young adults. The quaint shop had a hole in the wall style feeling, with a bar running along the white counter and less than a half dozen tables and chairs set up across the limited floor space. The floor was chessboard checkered like a typical diner and the walls were black. The atmosphere would almost be depressing, if not for the additional design choice: red rose bouquets, hand painted at equally spaced intervals along the walls, making the room pop in an almost dazzling way without being too gaudy.

Honestly, he was ninety-eight percent sure the only reason he got hired was the fact he matched the shop’s chic color scheme to a T (though, he was certainly aesthetically pleasing all on his own, if he did say so himself). It definitely wasn’t because Summer’s parents liked him – they’re suspicious stares said all he needed to know of what they thought of him. Still, he couldn’t beat a job close to his dorm room that was also willing to work around his intensive school schedule; a fact only further daunted by the major-intensive coursework that came with starting his junior year. So, certainly he could put up with a bit of distaste for a few extra dollars in his pocket.

Plus, working with his best friend was an added bonus.

The bell above the door chimed, a small group of sophomores walking in, chattering amicably. Summer side-eyed him with a cheeky grin. “Alright Mr. Expert, time to put your skills to work.”

He winked in return. “I’ll try not to show you up, flowerbud.”

The next hour proceeded fairly commonly; he took orders, Summer made them, he delivered them. Simple. They had some snacks and fare to sell – the homemade pastries were a little stale, so he didn’t recommend those – but overall, the big selling point was the coffee. It was good brew and made with one of these new-fangled drip machines that had come out only a few years back. Most households couldn’t afford it and still made their coffee by boiling water on the stove, so merely the appeal alone of being able to buy coffee made the fancy, expensive way left people feeling like they were sophisticated and high-class.

Frankly, the little machine was just fascinating to operate, and more than once Qrow found himself just watching the russet liquid teardrop into the glass pot. It was during one of those mesmerized moments that he didn’t realize someone was standing behind him until he heard a thump-thump-thump of someone’s hand smacking the counter. He started and whirled around, a retort already curling on his tongue –

And immediately fizzling away as he was starstruck by the deepest blue eyes he’d ever seen.

The fellow was probably the same age as him, but the way he waved and smiled almost boyishly shy at him made him appear a bit younger and had Qrow’s heart skipping like it was playing for the Hopscotch National championship.

Mother of Mary, he was in love.

“Uh, sorry. How can I help you?” He said, stepping back up to the register on wobbly legs. The stranger hesitated, as if uncertain, and it gave Qrow the chance to give him a real look over.

His appearance was very Beatles-esque but the shade arrangement blended into a sort of downhome country allure: mop-top cut blond hair, orange silk necktie, lamb’s wool yellow sweater, russet flare slacks. What stood out the most though was the single piercing in his right ear, the stud in the shape of a sunflower. He must have been staring at it too long, because the blond suddenly pointed at it, raising an eyebrow in an unasked question. Qrow reached up, covering his own stud, a sideways cross that matched his necklace, nodding quietly.

The response was… bizarre. Those pretty blue eyes widened as he shook his head rapidly, before he pointed a bit more insistently at his own ear.

“Uhh… what?” Qrow asked.

The stranger slumped a bit, before gritting his teeth a little and hissing, “Sssu…” He paused, frowning, then held up a finger in the universal gesture of ‘wait a moment’ before digging around in his pocket.

The hell was this, some weird game of charades? He wasn’t that out of the scene was he? Whatever it was, it was kind of a buzzkill. “Buddy, maybe you just want to order?”

He didn’t even bother to acknowledge that with a response, still going about pulling out a small notepad, scratching something onto it hurriedly before holding it out his way.

Where’s Summer?

Qrow felt a spike of annoyance rise. Was this guy confused or just an idiot? Either way, he aimed the other with as sharp a stare as he could muster, snapping, “I’ll tell you right now, she ain’t interested. So if you’d like to order, I suggest doing so. Otherwise, leave.”

That earned him another frown, before the blond started to write again. What the ever-living hell was this?! And why was everyone at the shop giving him looks, like he was the one doing weird shit? “Hey, you need your ears cleaned? Either order or get out!”

That was when he heard the snap of the back door closing as Summer walked back in.

“Tai!” She yelped, before crossing the room in an instant, hip-checking Qrow out of the way with a hasty, “Sorry, I got this!” She reached out, tapping the freak’s arm. It caused him to stop writing and look up, before he grinned brightly. Summer smiled in return and then started to move her hands in odd patterns as she spoke, “Sorry, he’s new. The usual, right?”

The blond set down his pen and paper, silently gesturing back in equally unintelligible movements. Qrow watched the odd events wondering if he’d stepped into the Twilight Zone or something because though he wasn’t speaking, Summer seemed to understand whatever it was he was saying – was the conversation transmitting right into her brain?

Qrow watched the man warily as he handed over some money and walked away from the counter, unsure what to make of the sheepish smile and wave he offered him as he passed. He looked back at Summer, ducking over to grab her shoulder and murmur, “Do I need to call the FBI?”

“What?” She snorted down a laugh.

“I think your brain’s been probed.” He shot the man a suspicious glance. Was that why he was so attractive? To put unsuspecting guys like him off his guard?

“Really Qrow?” Summer was unamused. “I think I’m going to have to ban you from late night TV.”

He frowned, a touch indignant. It could happen! “Well, what was that then?”

“It was sign language, dummy.” She rolled her eyes. “Taiyang’s deaf.”

He blinked.

Oh.

So, he just yelled at a deaf guy.

Face turning peppermint red, he placed a hand on the counter, using it as leverage to slowly sink behind it so no one could see him anymore. “I think I’m just going to take my break here. Preferably forever.”

He was given a few sympathetic pats on the head and, ten minutes later, a peace offering in the form of a cup of coffee with enough cream and sugar to turn it light as caramel. So, he sucked it up and took his walk of shame all the way to the end of the counter, carefully placing the mug down in the other’s line of sight, but not too close to the textbook he was reading.

Taiyang glanced up and that boyish smile was back. He placed a hand against his chin and waved outwards, like he was blowing a kiss to him.

Somehow, Qrow turned even redder this time, ducking his head and hurrying away as his heart thundered in a confused cacophony.

~

October 3rd, 1967

“Alright bro, you’ve been wallowing for days now. Lay it on me already.”

Qrow sighed, pulling the pillow up from his face and glancing towards his twin. Rather than answer, his lips pursed in disgust at the sight of her. “What are those grungy things?”

Raven pulled down the overly large purple shades, red eyes peering over the rim tops at him. “You don’t like them? I thought they were pretty boss.” She readjusted the glasses, looking back at herself in the mirror. Each time she turned her head to see herself from another angle, the multitude of beads she had strung in her hair rattled nosily, the flower bandanna around her head doing nothing to contain the wild black locks.

“Remind me to tell Vernal to keep you off the grass for a while.” Qrow mumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“She was talking about getting inked, you know.” She pat her arm. “Right here. A raven.”

He hummed in acknowledgment, but his mind was on Taiyang and the little black heart he had on his own arm. Qrow had only seen it yesterday; it had been a warm day so he’d been in a polo rather than his arrangement of sweaters. “You get liver poisoning that way.” He replied distractedly.

“You really are being a drag.” Raven sat on her own bed, graciously sparing him from having to look at the gaudy shades by tossing them on the mattress. “What’s happening?”

He tossed the inkling around in his head, pondering over whether he really wanted to tell his sister about his woes. But, who else did he have besides Summer? “You know the job I took a few weeks back? We have a regular there who can’t hear.”

“Like, at all?” When he nodded, she lent forward, resting her hands under her chin. “Wild. So what do you do?”

“Summer talks to him with these weird hand flaps.”

“It’s called sign language, birdbrain.”

“I know! That’s not the point!”

She arched a brow. “So, what is the point?”

“I…” He looked away, unable to face her as he admitted, “He irritates me. I don’t get why we should cater to him just ‘cause he was unlucky.”

There was a creak of bedspring as Raven shifted positions, then said, “You sound like mom.”

“I know!” Qrow shouted, shooting up from the bed and running his hands through his hair. “It’s been three years Rae! Why can’t I get her damn screechy voice out of my head?!”

Raven lounged back on the heels of her hands, her red eyes following him while he paced the floor and mumbled out angry curses. She was patient as she waited for him to finish, but once he’d slumped back to his own bed, hanging his head in defeat, her voice was oddly soothing to his frayed nerves, “Ma had plenty to say about everyone. It’s hard conditioning to break. You and I know that better than anyone.”

He scoffed. “As if you ever had a problem.”

She shrugged, not answering that. It wasn’t like he hadn’t known Raven was kissing chicks behind the bleachers by the time she was thirteen. And when their parents finally found out and pointed to the door, she’d marched out of the house with her head held high as if it’d been her idea to leave the whole time.

But him? He didn’t even try crossing the bridge until his first college party, where a few shots blitzed him enough to realize that Tin Man Jimmy’s eyes were rather fetching and it was a terrible shame to make them close when he kissed him. They hadn’t lasted, but it had been enough to make him want to find the underground world hidden from society’s eye. So, after getting a few tips from Raven (and a lot of necessary encouragement over how he wasn’t a demon birthed from Hell’s fiery womb), he started to dress just a bit flashier, speak a little more in jargon and frequent more bars on the south side of town. Three years away from home left him more comfortable within himself than he’d ever thought possible, as if he truly was a bird that was finally given the right to fly for the first time. He thought he’d really broken free of the cage his parents had ignorantly built around him.

And then he had to meet Taiyang and, with each passing day leaving his attraction further soured with distaste, Qrow realized that no, he really wasn’t past everything and maybe he never would be.

“You’re brooding.” Raven quirked, always pleased in her awful taste of humor. “Look, you really want to stick it to mom? Make friends with him.” She rolled her shoulders in a half-hearted shrug. “And if you can’t do that, then just ignore him.”

“I, I guess.” He conceded, sighing towards the ceiling. “This is all so janked. Even worse, I feel like I’m betraying my people somehow.”

“What does that mean?”

He placed a hand over his piercing, recalling the expression on Tai’s face when he’d done the same thing during their first meeting. An expression he now understood had been panic as the man feared he’d just accidentally made a total stranger out himself in public. “He’s batting for my team, not yours.”

“Ooooo.” Her expression lit up with sudden understanding. A smirk began creeping its way onto her face. “So what’s he look like?”

Qrow gave her one glance before adamantly shaking his head. “Oh no. I know that gleam.”

She fluttered her eyelids; though, the day she could pull of innocent would be the same day God’s rapture happened. “Whatever do you mean, dear brother?”

“You’ve got that look that says you’re about to psychoanalyze me!”

“I don’t have the faintest idea what you’re talking about.”

“Just because you’re majoring in psychology doesn’t suddenly make you an expert.”

“No. I suppose not.” She finally agreed. And as he stretched back out along his bed, he thought she was just going to let it go, until: “…So, blue eyes, huh?”

Qrow buried his face into his pillow and screamed.

~

October 11th, 1967

The rag made a wet plop as Qrow tossed it onto the tabletop, wiping away circular coffee cup marks and pastry crumbs. It was a slow day at the café, only three customers in the shop and only a handful of others having come in since the start of his shift. He looked towards the only one sitting at the bar. Taiyang was signing in quick, rapid movements, and though Qrow couldn’t make heads or tails of it, Summer had no trouble keeping up as she started to laugh at whatever he was telling her.

Feeling his jaw tighten, he ducked his head and slunk off to another table, scrubbing a little harder at the stains. It had only been a few days, and he found attempting to ignore Tai was only resulting in him being even more hyperaware of his presence.

The only other patrons were two classmates he faintly recognized from his American Studies course. They were talking in hushed tones and, normally, he’d tune it out; but searching for a much-needed distraction, Qrow lent down to wipe one of the chair seats off as he strained his ear.

“I don’t know about this Cardin.” He heard one of them grunt gruffly. The guy’s hair was cut in a way that it made him look like a ridiculous cockatiel.

The other hissed back, “Don’t be a flake.”

“I’m not!”

“Good.” Then, even lower, “It’s not like he’ll hear us coming anyways.”

What?!

Qrow narrowly missed smacking his head on the bottom of the table as he straightened up. Walking around their table to the next, he continued to try and listen in, but they’d moved to talking about the Yankees game. He side-eyed their backs, wondering if he’d maybe just misheard. Eventually, he gave up hovering, knowing there was only so much he could pretend to clean and returned to the counter to organize the mugs.

The minutes passed and he kept sneaking glances to the duo, but when they didn’t so much as give Tai a glance when he stood to leave, Qrow relaxed, even returned the wave the blond sent him as he passed by. The bell rang as the door opened and shut.

Seconds ticked by and nothing happened.

He sighed, turning away and tossing his rag in the basin. Of course he was overreacting.

Scraaap!

Qrow paused, looking back and watching with increasing trepidation as the two students got to their feet, pulling on their jackets. The snap of the door closing was unusually loud, leaving a disturbing silence behind.

“Ah! Alone at last.” Summer cheered, handing him Tai’s mug.

He swallowed down the sickness in his throat. “Yeah.”

His friend continued to chatter but he found it hard to listen as he stared down at the cup, his mind circling as much as the coffee rings he was staring at.

“God has a plan for everyone.” He could almost feel the bite of his mother’s fingernails digging into his shoulder as she whispered in his ear, “If someone’s born unnatural, He’s already forsaken them. Whatever comes next, it’s only what they deserve.”

His hand tightened around the mug, then he slammed it on the counter, the loud noise drowning out her voice.

No!

“Uh, Qrow?”

“I’m taking my break!” He called, jumping over the counter in one fluid motion as he sprinted out the door. He took off around the building and through the alleyway most of the students cut through to get to the outfields.

The night was brisk, autumn’s chill having settled in deep this year and leaving the trees already wilting, their spindly limbs like decrepit fingers reaching out for him as he passed by. His heart beat a hard rhythm in his chest as he spotted the duo quickly closing in. Qrow sprinted forward as fast as legs could carry him, his mouth opening in a useless cry Tai could never hear.

Except, by some miracle he did, stopping and turning just in time to accept Cardin’s punch to his face.

Even from this distance, Qrow winced at the sound of the impact, and had it been him accepting the blow, he would have been on the ground immediately. But Tai was more solidly built, only stumbling back, and still had the awareness to jerk away from the follow up strike. What happened next was probably the most unreal thing Qrow had ever witnessed when, just as quick, the blond’s hands reached out, clasping around his attacker’s wrist and elbow, smoothly kicking out his legs so he could flip him. Cardin gave an aborted yelp, all the breath probably whooshing out of his lungs from how hard he hit the ground.

His mohawked buddy tried to grapple Tai from behind, but the blond’s elbow snapped back, landing a rough hit into his chest to knock him back. That was when Qrow finally managed to clean the distance, throwing all his weight in as he shoulder-tackled into guy just as he was stumbling back, actually managing to toss him into the grass next to his friend.

Rubbing the ache from his arm, Qrow ignored the look of surprise Tai was sending him as he growled out to sprawled forms, “If you don’t want to get thrashed again, I suggest you split!”

Cardin scowled as he got to his knees, eyes darting between them as if he was looking for another cheap shot. He must have thought better of whatever ill plans he was concocting though, because he said, “Time to cut out Russ, this scene’s getting diseased.”

A flare of anger burned through Qrow. “What was that?!”

It only earned him a taunting, “Later fags!” As the two took off.

His hands shook as he curled them into fists, mind playing the thought of chasing after them and giving them both a quality shiner to wear for the rest of the week. Yet, movement at his left had him looking back at Tai in time to see the blond cringing some as he touched his face.

“Ah, jeez.” Qrow mumbled when the other’s hand came away scarlet red with blood.

Returning to the shop with Tai’s nose gushing like a fountain yielded about the response he expected as Summer took one look at them, then yelled in horror, “What happened?!”

Leading the blond to the nearest bar stool, Qrow replied, “The two that left here tried to get the jump on him. Can you get a rag, Sums?”

The dainty woman was quick to do so, ringing it out in the sink before handing it over to the blond. As he pressed it to his face, she gestured and said, “Are you alright?”

With his hands busy, all Tai could do was nod.

“He’s fine.” Qrow reassured, leaning his hip against the counter. “Took it like a champ and gave twice back. It was kind of impressive actually.” Really, there had been something fantastic about the finesse in which Tai had moved; it had been as if he was channeling Bruce Lee spirit into his own.

Being the girl she was, Summer only continued to frown, flapping her hands some more. “Stay as long as you need.”

Tai just nodded again, and as she walked away to finish stocking the coffee canisters, he glanced sideways towards him in a confused manner.

“Eh.” Qrow just shrugged in return. He turned away, about to round the bar, when a warm hand closed around his arm. He looked down at it, then the man it belonged to. “Yeah?” He asked, remembering two seconds later he couldn’t hear him. Just like when they first met, Taiyang asked him to wait, before he dug out his notepad and pen, flipping it to a clean page. Qrow rested against the counter again, looking down when the notepad was pushed towards him.

Thank you for coming after me. It read. The handwriting was so neat, it could have been book print and Qrow imagined he probably went to one of those schools that slapped students’ wrists until each line and dot was perfect.

He wondered if they were even harder on Tai about it.

The pen was placed down next to it, invitation clear, and after a short hesitance, Qrow picked it up, writing back: You don’t need to thank me. You did fine on your own. How’d you know they were there?

Tai shook his head when he read it, taking the pen again, returning with, I saw their shadows.

Okay, that’s pretty boss. He replied.

Thank you?

The question mark, combined with the baffled look, made Qrow wonder if he even knew what the term meant so he quickly amended with: Sorry. It means really cool.

Tai read it, rolling his eyes. His reply was quick, but rather than push it back he held the notepad up, one raised eyebrow enhancing the clearly miffed tone: I know. I’m deaf, not out of touch.

He laughed, the response catching him off-guard.

Tai set it back down and added underneath that, Noticing stuff like that is normal for me. Nothing to get freaked out over.

Just like the blond had, Qrow replied with an equal amount of cheekiness: Alright Mr. Sassypants. I still -think it’s boss.

It gifted him a smile and a compliment: You’re lucky you’re a dish, Qrow.

He felt heat on his face. Perfect for every meal of the day. He flirted back.

Tai laughed behind his hand. It was mostly soundless, little tiny huffs of air, but it made his eyes shimmer merrily.

Qrow was glad he had the counter for support as he felt his knees go weak all over again, positive the smile stretching along his face was goofy as could be, but not minding at all.

~

October 12th, 1967

As he took the ever-familiar trek from his history class to the shop, Qrow found himself whistling the chorus to “All You Need is Love”, a bop to his step and a sway to his hips. He pretended the brittle grass crunching underfoot was a suitable replacement for the backing percussion, heels hitting a little harder when he passed over the same spot where those punks had gotten their tails handed to them just last night, and made his way through the trees and alley next. He weaved his way around the bad luck cracks in the sidewalk, humming the last tones of the song as he pulled open the door, the half-formed plan on how to convince Summer to let him slack off a bit today so he could chat Tai up again falling away when he realized she wasn’t at the counter.

“Hey there, Mrs. Rose.” He said as politely as possible. “Sums running late?”

The woman, hair graying and tummy plumped with age shook her head. “‘Fraid she won’t be making it in for a bit. Poor child came down with a frightful fever. She looks just dreadful. So I’ve decided to work her shift until she feels well.”

“Oh.” He said, trying to mask his disappointment. “Give her my regards next time you see her.”

“Certainly will. Now, be a dear and handle the dishes.” As he passed by her, she caught his arm, grip almost too tight as she whispered harshly in his ear, “And get that thing out of your ear. People talk you know.”

“Yes ma’am.” Qrow replied. As he placed the stud in his pocket, he found himself extremely glad she hadn’t been there yesterday. She certainly would have spared no sympathy for Tai and his mangled nose.

He wasn’t surprised when he spent his next hour working like a dog, despite the moderate business. But even if Mrs. Rose had made him scrub the tiles with a toothbrush, nothing could tear his eyes away from the door. Therefore, he didn’t miss the exact moment Tai walked through. He practically dropped the trayful of mugs he was bussing in his hurry to set them down and hop on the register.

From the smile he wore, it seemed Tai was just as blissed to see him. And though his face was swollen and bruised, he was still the prettiest sight Qrow had gotten all day.

He slid the note he’d written on a scrap of receipt over. Summer’s sick and her mom’s a prowler. The usual?

The blond nodded, pulling out his pen. Good luck.

As he took the change, he stuffed the note next to his earring, hoping that having the wish in his pocket would act like a charm, because he was going to need all he could get.

No matter how much he wanted to, Qrow didn’t dare try to talk more with Tai. He did spare him a few glances here and there, and if they caught eyes, they’d share smiles; but even that yielded short supply as the blond spent most of his time bent over his notebook, scribbling away. He would have been more upset that those blue eyes weren’t following his every moment like a lovesick chick gazing upon her Casanova, had he had enough time to consider it.

Instead, he was too busy following the siren’s noxious songs of “Qrow can you do” and “Qrow can you get this” and “Qrow this just isn’t clean enough”. So, by the time he thought to look back, Tai’s stool was empty, nothing left but his mug. Trying not to let disappointment drag him down, he went to fetch it. His hand paused inches from picking up the mug when he realized a folded slip of paper was pinned underneath it.

Heart jamming a rhythm that would make even The Rolling Stones jealous, Qrow scanned the store, just to make sure no one’s attention was on him, before he picked up the note. A question was written on it:

What’s a crow’s favorite drink?

He arched an eyebrow, before unfolding the page. The answer was written in large lettering, arched like a rainbow over a surprisingly well-drawn ink picture of a cartoon crow with its wings folded around a mug.

CAWfee!

Qrow snorted, shoulders shaking with effort to contain his laughter, a flush of warmth spreading throughout him like a warm summer rain.

“Qrow! Don’t dawdle over there! I need you to scrub these pastry pans!” Mrs. Rose called shrilly.

Even that couldn’t ruin his euphoric mood. “Coming!” He placed the drawing next to his receipt and earring, feeling luckier than the richest man in Vegas.

~

October 13th, 1967

Day two went much the same, but with a heavier crowd often found as the week drew on as exhausted students tried to sludge through the day and make it to the weekend. Once the first hour had passed, Qrow’s feet and patience were already tired and he’d managed to mix up two orders. Summer’s mom was in a state over it, and she made sure he knew it as she yelled down at him enough that he felt like he was back in primary school and getting scolded for pushing Glynda off the witch’s hat on the playground all over again.

As he waited for the coffee to brew once again, vengefully contemplating the ramifications of his soul if he decided to set Mr. Rose’s hair on fire, he heard a telltale rap-a-tap-tap along the countertop that told him his favorite customer had arrived. And, sure enough, as he turned to face the register, there Tai was, smiling back at him in that way he couldn’t imagine he’d ever grow tired of.

Qrow did his best to return it, but Tai didn’t need hearing to tell him that his heart was misplaced from it. Already prepared, the blond scribbled on his little notepad, sliding it his way.

You alright?

He took the proffered pen. I’ll survive.

It felt a shame to see the smile get overtaken by a frown and he felt almost as cheated as if the weatherman promised a sunny day only for him to walk into the rain. Tai rolled the pen between his fingers, before writing quickly: Hang in there Pige.

Wait.

What?

Qrow’s eyebrows knotted. Of course he knew the reference. Any 50s kid did. But how did-? No. More importantly-

No way. You’re Lady. I’m the Tramp, through and through.

I’m interested in that yarn if you dare to spin it. Tai was laughing quietly again.

Feeling his face heat, he quickly changed topics. How do you even know that movie?

I really like dogs. So, every week I’d beg my parents to take me to the cinema to see it, even though I couldn’t hear it. My mom eventually wrote out the dialogue for me so I could follow along. Now it was the other’s turn to look embarrassed.

Feeling a bit amiss for words, Qrow only wrote back, Good mom. Secretly glad that bitterness couldn’t be telegraphed so easily.

The best. Speaking of, Mrs. Rose is giving you the stink eye.

Ah, shit.

He gratefully accepted the dime the blond slipped him, reluctantly getting back to work.

That night, a new drawing was placed beside his coffee drinking crow. This one was only pencil and more hastily sketched due to being busier than its predecessor.  The first thing that drew his eye was the slightly more masculine Lady, snooty nose up in the air and sunflower perched atop one floppy ear. There was a leash in ‘her’ teeth and a speech bubble above her head that said, ‘You belong in the dog house.’

Attached to its other end was Tramp, the pendant on his collar a sideways cross. His ears were raised hopefully as he inquired back, ‘Yours?’

Qrow lay in bed that night, unable to rest as he thought over the silent question for a long, long time.

~

October 14th, 1967

By day three, Summer was back and Qrow practically fell to her feet in his relief, hugging onto her knees and begging her to never leave him again. She promptly told him to stop overacting like he was living in a Broadway musical and, as an apology, gave him one of her Secret Ingredient Cookies that were known for their heavenly taste. It certainly made up for him still doing most of the work while his still recovering friend puttered about at the speed of molasses. Nor did she raise protest as he endlessly groused over his meager sufferings. It was only when he got to the single highlight of the past two days, did she speak up.

“Of course I knew he could draw.” Summer interjected what was meant to be a rhetorical question. “Who did you think painted the roses here?”

“Hold up. Didn’t your parents open this place up a few years back?”

“Yep.” She said, adding a little pop to the ‘p’.

He looked at her, mildly betrayed. “How long have you known Tai?”

She hummed. “Since 10th grade. I went to a special sign language event with my cousin Neo. To support her, you know?” He was certain from the way she rolled her eyes that he looked about as utterly clueless as he felt. “She’s mute, Qrow. Anyways, that’s where I met Tai. We stayed in touch ever since.”

He was starting to wonder what else he didn’t know about Summer. “So why haven’t I met him before?”

“Tai tends to get nervous meeting new people. And you’ve never exactly been Mr. Approachable, especially not back in high school.”

A weak, “Hey!” was about the extent of his argument. He couldn’t deny he used to be one of the biggest gas lighters in the whole school, always looking for a new victim to scoff at. It was a world wonder how Summer put up with him back then.

“But, you know,” She continued as she stacked a few of the clean mugs up on the rack, tone deceptively casual, “He sure has been hanging around here a lot more often ever since you started working here.”

Rap-a-tap-tap, went the counter. Summer smiled knowingly before she flitted over to the register. Qrow watched the two talk, meeting Tai’s eyes over her head every now and again, and found the question he’d been agonizing over all night was suddenly startlingly simple to answer.

As he went to make the order he’d long ago memorized, he turned to his friend and said, “Sums, I need a favor.”

Ten minutes later, the cup was placed down on the counter, and as always, Tai smiled at him, waving his hand in front of his chin like a kiss. ‘Thank you’ he said.

For the first time ever, instead of the simple nod that had been the entirety of their communication for weeks now, Qrow mimicked the movement. ‘You’re welcome.’

Tai’s eyes widened.

Hands shaking with both nerves and inexperience, he carefully followed up with, ‘Would you like to go out sometime?’

For a fraction of a minute, while the blond sat there, not replying, Qrow worried he’d gotten it wrong.

And then, just as slow and deliberate, Tai rose his hand, curling it into a fist and shaking it in clear answer.

‘Yes.’

And like the bird he was named after, Qrow soared.

~

November 28th, 1967

So that’s why you wear your crosses like that!

Yeah. With a mother like mine, you’d forsake all religion too. What about you? Why a flower?

Don’t laugh. I garden. Sunflowers are my favorite.

Wait. So you can draw, plant flowers and you’re a martial artist blackbelt? Is there anything you can’t do?

Well, I can’t sing.

Qrow laughed, reaching over the bar to give the other’s shoulder a playful shove. Tai grinned back, completely unabashed, but as he pulled his notebook back towards him to write something else, he seemed to hesitate. His expression gentled with contemplation before finally writing what was on his mind.

When Qrow read it, he felt his breath stick like glue in his throat.

I know you want to ask. It’s okay.

He looked from Tai’s inviting gaze down to the pen, the offer clearly on the table to finally break the light conversation they’d been having the past six weeks and truly get serious. Inhaling deeply, he gathered his courage as he took it and replied: You got me. So, were you always deaf?

Tai’s smile never faltered, even as he answered: No. But I don’t remember a time when I could hear either.

What happened?

When I was a baby, I got really sick. My blood-related father refused to let mom take me to the hospital, even when I wouldn’t wake up. That’s why she left him. The doctors brought down my fever but my hearing was gone after that.

Qrow’s scanned over the words again and again, unsure what to say, but knowing ‘I’m sorry’ wouldn’t be well received. That’s awful. He settled on instead.

Tai shrugged. Can’t miss what you never knew you had.

Qrow had a feeling he didn’t only mean his hearing. He could certainly relate.

He tried to think of something, anything to say – but, despite a distinct lack of a usable voice, Tai was easily better at breaking silences. Alright, your turn. Tell me something unique about yourself.

Unique, huh? He tapped the end of the pen on the counter as he thought over whether he wanted to give away his biggest trump card or if he wanted to hold it until he could introduce them before dropping the bomb. But, when nothing else good came to mind he finally wrote:

I’m a twin.

It was still worth it. Tai’s eyes practically bugged out of his head, looking between the page and him and when he wrote back, it was messy and excited, underlined multiple times for emphasis.

FAR OUT! I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS!!!

He laughed again, twirling his wrist in a gesture he’d only recently learned meant ‘go on’. He was picking Sign in bits and pieces from the other. He still couldn’t hold a conversation or even complete the last third of the alphabet, but it certainly didn’t deter him. It helped his teacher’s hands were warm and gentle, often lingering intentionally on his own (it was also half the reason he was having so much trouble remembering most of them).

The notepad was finally pushed back, and though he expected all of them, it was probably Tai’s genuine enthusiasm that left Qrow feeling endeared rather than annoyed as he read, trying to contain his grin.

Are you younger or older? Identical? Have you two been switching on me this whole time without telling me? Can you read each other’s minds? Most importantly: Who’s the evil twin?

I’m younger. Not identical, but Raven’s definitely the evil twin. She can read my mind, sometimes, but she can do that with everyone. I’m pretty sure she’s actually an alien.

Tai scribbled back, You think everyone’s an alien. Really though, what’s it like having a sibling?

Qrow twirled the pen between his fingers like a baton as he gave the question some honest consideration before writing, Like having a best friend and worst enemy rolled into one. Rae gets on my nerves constantly and she can be unbearable to live with, but she’ll always be the first person I tell all my secrets to.

Sounds profound.

He wondered if it would be too weird to ask if he could save this page for himself, even as he replied, You should come to my dorm sometime. I could introduce you.

It was rare he ever saw Tai blush. He was suddenly very committed to making it happen more often. The blond started to write before shaking his head, quickly slashing it out and saying instead, I’d like that.

Yet, no matter how well the words were blacked out, Qrow truly was at least quarter-part hellion, because he had been reading as it was being written and filed the idea away for future use.

To what, your tongue?

~

December 2nd, 1967

“How. About. This?” Qrow said as he moved his hands slowly, then lifted them up to his eyes, circling them like spectacles.

Tai was unamused, making a sharp motion. ‘No way.’

He laughed, waving him down. ‘Joking.’ 

‘Try again.’

“Aright.” Qrow acquisitioned, “This?” This time, he brought his fists together like a heart, before moving them apart, spreading out his fingers as he did so, mimicking a firework.

Still wary of another joke, Tai tilted his head some and asked, ‘Why?’

Qrow reached for the notepad that was never far, writing down, Because you’re like a burst of energy.

He knew he had struck gold, because Tai immediately brightened, signing enthusiastically, ‘Love it!’

Rather pleased, he settled back against his headboard, scanning over the page which was full of broken sentences and single words. They’d been at it for a good hour but deciding on their name signs had been wicked cool. It felt like a secret handshake almost. Thankfully, Tai was also determined to be a bit more creative than simply making a bird that any teenybopper with a flashlight could imitate. Instead, he had curved the index and middle fingers of his right hand sideways, while placing the index of his left at the base of them.

Like a scythe. Qrow reread, brushing his thumb over the text. Because you’re dangerously beautiful.

A hand patting along the bedsheets drew his eyes back to the blond, who either signed ‘What now?’ or ‘What next?’, Qrow wasn’t entirely positive. He lifted the notepad for Tai to read, Can I ask you to try something? When he got the affirmative, he added after it, Can you say my name with your voice?

The response was immediate, Tai making the same motion over and over, ‘No. Nononononon-’ Face turning red, he stopped and hid behind his hands.

“Whoa, whoa.” He sat up, running his hand over the tops of the golden locks until he could see those blue eyes again to sign, ‘Please?’

Tai sighed soundlessly. ‘You’ll laugh.’

‘Probably.’ He chuckled when the other shoved him, repeating, ‘Please?’

The other snuffed like a discontented bull. ‘I’ll try’ Tai straightened up, placing his hand against his throat. He hummed and hawed to get a feel for the sound for a minute, his expression shifting comically as he got used to it, before his lips parted, a confused hiss escaping, “Ccccccoo?”

Qrow tried his best, he really did, but even with his teeth leaving grooves into his bottom lip, nothing could really contain the sudden fit that overcame him.

Tai flushed, looking indignant as he signed harsh repeats. ‘Jerk. Jerk, jerk, jerk!’

“I’m sorry!” He said, signing it adamantly but the blond looked away from him, obviously peeved. Qrow waited until he wasn’t going to laugh in his face again, reaching out to cup his hand under Tai’s chin, gently pulling his gaze back his way. Not quailing under the glare, he said, ‘Thank you.’

His lips pursed some, almost a pout, and his shoulders relaxed. But, he didn’t let him completely off the hook as he snatched up the notepad, pointing at, Can I ask you to try something?

Well, that was probably fair. Qrow nodded, “Yeah, sure.”

The book made a soft thump as it was tossed back to the sheets. Tai began to move his hands in a slow manner whenever he was worried Qrow wouldn’t understand. He pointed to himself.

“Me.” Qrow sounded out. Two movements, one blending into the next as Tai closed his hand and pointed at him, “And you.”

Boyishly shy as if it were their first meeting all over again, Tai hesitated, before tapping his index and middle finger against his own lips.

Oh.

Suddenly, the fact that they had been alone in his dorm room for over an hour and hadn’t been making out the whole time seemed like a great misuse of a Saturday afternoon.

‘Yes,’ Qrow replied unsteadily, whole body feeling electrified as if he’d truly become a bird that had just landed on a live wire. Tai was eyeing his shaking hand uncertainly, so he repeated the acceptance more vigorously, nodding with it.

The blond chuckled with that breathy, huffing laugh of his, own smile trembly with nerves. The bedsprings creaked as he shifted closer, fingers drawing a warm pattern from Qrow’s forehead down to his chin but just scant inches away, he hesitated. It was hard to tell if it was inexperience or jitters making him freeze, but Qrow reached up, hand covering the one on his chin, fingers slipping into Tai’s as he tilted his head and closed the rest of the distance between them.

The first kiss was chaste, their lips slightly winter-chapped but warm, lasting only a few seconds before they were pulling back. Squeezing his hand, Tai pulled his away only to sign ‘again?’. His expression was delightfully starstruck. Qrow grinned, clutching Tai’s sweater and leading him back in.

By the fourth kiss, Tai stopped checking.

By the sixth, a swipe of Qrow’s tongue along his lips had Tai jerking back, eyes wide in surprise, only to eagerly dive in for a seventh.

By the time his sister walked in, he had lost count, too preoccupied by trying to make the blond moan again to keep track.

“Well, aren’t you two disgusting?” Raven said, shutting the door behind her.

He lurched out of Tai’s lap, glaring crossly at her. A moment later, the blond realized she was there too and yelped. The noise was so unexpected it made both of the twins jump.

“Whoa, hey,” Qrow placed a hand on his arm to get his attention. “It’s okay. It’s okay. This is Raven.” He said, carefully fingerspelling her name. He’d practiced it enough, preparing for when he’d introduce them – though, he certainly hadn’t meant for it to be like this.

The panic slowly melted away to understanding, quickly followed by absolute mortification. Still, Tai made the effort to offer her a greeting wave.

The way Raven eyed him, smirking with gleeful smugness, only seemed to increase his intimidation. “Ah, so he does have blue eyes.”

Making a mental note to explain things later, Qrow gave Tai a pitying pat, before turning back to his sister. “Thought you said you were gonna be out.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not sticking around.” Her nose wrinkled, not hard to guess what nasty scenarios she was envisioning. “I just need the keys to the Chevy, then I’m gonna split.” He snatched up the keyring on his nightstand and tossed them her way. She caught them easily, waving as she headed back for the exit, “Have fun!”

He almost just left it at that. Almost.

Instead he called after her, “Where are you going?”

“Draft card burning.”

“Another one?”

Her hand hovered above the doorknob, before slowly pulling away as she turned to him, demeanor predatory in the way she stared him down. “Got a problem with that?”

Raven’s scare tactics had never worked on him before. They certainly weren’t going to now. “Yeah I got a problem with it!” Qrow snapped back, air quoting ‘problem’ for emphasis as he got to his feet, facing her down. “You shouldn’t be going to them. People are getting killed.” When her only response was to roll her eyes, his anger flared. “Raven, I’m serious!”

Her voice rose with his. “And I’m not?! For every one of us shot, ten more of our brothers are being gunned down across the sea!”

“That’s not your problem to solve!”

“No, it’s all of ours, you’re just too oblivious to see it. If you won’t stand with me, then fine!” She stepped forward, snarling in his face, “But you damn well better not stand in my way.”

Even before he responded, he knew what he’d say would be childish; Raven was the only one who made him feel like he had to resort to the tactics of a twelve-year-old. “Oh, I’m oblivious?! You really think anyone’s gonna listen to some stupid girl that thinks handing out a bunch of flowers can stop a war?”

They were about as effective too, because she hardly faltered. “You’ll thank this ‘stupid girl’ when it saves your ass from being next.” A scoff. “Just like always.”

Somehow, that stung. “Don’t act so full of yourself.”

“You know I’m right.” Raven turned away, clearly done with him. “These protests can’t stop until the day our troops are sent home.” She yanked open the door, tossing back at him, “We’re fighting a useless war. And the sooner the rest of the world sees that, the better.”

Then she was gone, nothing left but the snap of the latch catching to echo her departure.

Qrow stood there, fists shaking where they curled tightly at his sides, blood running hot in his veins. So caught up in his turbulent emotions, he almost forgot he wasn’t alone until a warm hand caught his wrist. Looking over, he was met with Tai’s earnest concern. It took some effort, but he managed to relax his hands, enough to sign a quick, ‘Sorry.’

The apology was quickly dismissed, the blond guiding him back to his bed. Both of them sat on the edge. ‘The war?’ The blond guessed, fingerspelling the second word for him.

‘Yeah,’ He replied halfheartedly.

‘Do you want to talk about it?’

As answer, Qrow mutely slipped his hand into Tai’s, tangling their fingers into a tight grip.

~

March 30th, 1968

The trunk was popped open, a duffle bag being set down inside. Qrow peeked at it around Tai’s arm, inching his hand towards it.

Smack!

He recoiled quickly, shaking out the imaginary pain.

‘Naughty.’ Tai signed.

He winked back. ‘You know it.’

The trunk was shut before he could make any more attempts, the blond swinging the keyring on his finger as he made his way to the driver’s side of the Chevy. Qrow hopped in on the other side, watching quietly as the other adjusted the mirror and got the car started. Before he put it in reverse though, Tai caught his eye. ‘Nervous?’ He asked.

‘Somewhat.’ Qrow admitted; because really, how would someone go about teaching a deaf guy how to drive anyhow?

His smile was reassuring. ‘Trust me.’

So, he did. Mostly. And if he clutched onto the car door for the first ten minutes of the drive, it was only because the Chevy was getting ricketier with age and certainly did not have anything to do with the violent imagery of death-by-car rolling through his head like a B-grade horror show.

It wasn’t until they hit the highway that Qrow allowed himself to truly relax. Boredom set in soon after and with little else to do, he pulled out his sociology textbook to take the notes he would need for his dissertation on how Darwinist societies were dystopias in disguise. Maybe, when he finished it, he’d mail it off to his mother just to tick her off. Though, he was sure her response would be less about the words on the page and more about the name on the return address.

His lips quirked in a slight smile, knowing if he told Raven she’d cheer him on. Maybe even provide the stamp.

Well, that is, if she would talk to him.

Qrow sighed, trying to focus on the words on the page and not the daunting tension that had leaked into his everyday life. Since the turn of the year, with nothing but the heat of the Battle of Khe Sanh on every channel and the growing violence against MLK’s protestors in every paper, it felt like the entire world was ready spin off its axis. Each daily report only seemed to further his sister’s resolve to act even crazier than the most insane person in an asylum, because now she was considering dropping out of school altogether to go onto some ‘peace-spreading road trip’ across the country. She refused to listen to reason, no matter how much he hollered at her about how she was throwing her future down the drain.

It had been a week since that fight and they hadn’t said a word to one another since. It seemed they’d both concluded that the first one who did was admitting they were wrong; and both of them were surely too stubborn to do that. He wasn’t expecting any apologies; Raven never said sorry to anyone. But the stifling silence between them was dismaying.

It felt like he was losing his best friend, and he didn’t know what to do.

A gentle nudge on his shoulder drew his attention, and he looked up, realizing they were stopped at a light. Tai gestured his way. ‘You alright?’

Qrow smiled. At least he had him. ‘Yes.’ He replied. ‘Just thinking.’

The blond wasn’t fooled for a moment, but let it go with a simple nod and turned his attention back on the road.

The rest of the drive went by without event, though Qrow had some distinct concerns when they turned off the main pathway and started weaving their way up into the network of mountains that bordered the eastern side of Santa Cruz. Once the paving ran out, Tai parked on a level patch of land, signing enthusiastically, ‘We’re here!’ before he jumped out of the car.

They were? When suggesting going on a getaway for the weekend, the man had been rather scarce about the details, wanting to surprise him. Now, as Qrow peered out the windshield at the thick groves of trees all around them, he realized that either they were going camping or Tai had been secretly planning his murder this whole time.

Snorting at his own imagination, he climbed out, heading to the back of the car where Tai was shouldering the bag with ease. ‘Ready for a walk? It’s not too far.’

‘Lead the way.’ He said. Yet, when the blond turned and started to hike into the forest, Qrow found he couldn’t help himself when faced with the other’s shapely backside, reaching out and delivering a teasing smack along the other’s ass.

Tai jumped, emitting a little yelp that had Qrow cracking up. He whirled back around, a mischievous gleam in his blue eyes the only warning before he was sweeping him right off his feet. Surprised, Qrow shrieked before dissolving into laughter, winding his arms across Tai’s shoulders. The blond was grinning brilliantly, leaning forward to capture his lips in a searing kiss that had him humming with pleasant appreciation.

When he was set back on his feet, they headed up the trail together this time, fingers intertwined between them.

Despite it being mid-afternoon, the forest floor was fairly dark, the early hints of spring causing dense overgrowth of the maple and redwood trees and blocking out most of the sunlight to where it could only dapple along the brush they waded through. He could hear the faintest rushing noise of a nearby stream that had likely only just broken through the remaining winter frost. The birds were awake as well, the faint warbles of loon birds and the trills of song sparrows being particularly loud. Just as they were passing over a patch of wildflowers, Tai nudged him excitedly as he pointed out an adolescent deer just before it leaped out of sight. They kept their eyes out for other creatures after that, but other than a few scurrying squirrels, didn’t see anything too outstanding.

It didn’t matter as shortly thereafter, Qrow knew they’d reached their destination when Tai waved him on and sprinted up a sloping ridge. He was a little slower, not entirely trusting himself to not trip, but as he came up over the crest, he was suddenly breathless, uttering nothing more than a soft, “Whoa.”

It was like walking out of realty and into a fantasyland. They were at the edge of a cliff on the mountainside, the land below them nothing but hills full of trees and thickening mist that clung to the valley like a gentle blanket. As he stepped as close as he dared, he looked down, seeing the jagged edges of rock and the sheer drop descending into the fog. Instead of inciting fear, it was freeing, as if he was standing on top of the entire world from here.

‘Beautiful, right?’ Tai signed.

‘Yeah.’ He replied.

‘Wait until sunset.’ He grinned, before walking away, leaving Qrow to take in the sight. A clapping eventually prompted him to turn away though, only to see Tai spreading his arms to showcase the yellow-patterned quilt he’d placed along the ground with its simple lunch of sandwiches, set right in the middle and waiting for them. This was almost like a fantasy too; having a picnic in the mountains. Even as he sat with the other and took his first bite, everything felt so unreal.

‘How did you find this place?’ He asked.

Tai seemed to think over how to answer, before pulling out the notebook and pen they always kept on hand when the signs got too complicated. Before my Volks tanked, I used to drive out as far as I could go. This is one of my favorite places.

There was a line break, and then he continued on a new paragraph. The summer before college started, I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life. So, I packed up a bunch of my stuff and just started driving. Found a bunch of small towns. Hit up LA, Vegas, the canyons. I think I even crossed the border at one point.

Though he was certain he already knew, Qrow asked, ‘Alone?’

He nodded. ‘I just felt so lost. I thought if I just kept going, eventually I’d find my way.’

‘Did you find what you were looking for?’

‘No.’ Tai signed back, expression gentling, ‘I found it when I came back.’

For the second time today, Qrow felt breathless. Awash with sudden boldness, he said, ‘Next time, let’s go together.’

Smile widening, he replied, ‘I’d like that.’

The next few hours were spent exploring the surrounding forest. They hopped across flat stones sticking up above the rushing stream and dared one another to climb up one of the low-hanging oak trees. They kept looking for other animals, which was mostly a bust except for a half dozen different birds. Though, Qrow did happen upon one spectacular find hiding in the roots of a tree that he managed to scoop up into his hands. When he revealed the tarantula to Taiyang, he almost couldn’t stop laughing at the girly scream the other emitted as he jerked back and fell into the brush.

As dusk grew near, they headed back to their spot. They sat near the edge, bundled up together in the quilt to keep away the brisk chill that still came with nightfall. They watched as the sun fell below the horizon, the mist having turned into a dense, rolling fog that seemed soft enough to jump on and hued with the colors reflected in the sky. And as an arm came around his waist, holding him close, Qrow found that he’d never felt so content in his life.

‘Thank you,’ He told Tai later, when night had truly fallen and they were instead laying along the quilt to stargaze.

‘For?’ Qrow had to squint some to read the question, nothing but a battery powered lamp behind them and the moon above left for light.

‘I needed this.’ He turned onto his side to face him more fully as he added, ‘I’m glad you’re here.’

As answer, Tai cupped his face in his hand and brought him into a tender kiss, thumb caressing his cheek. After a few moments, he pulled back, but Qrow didn’t let him go far, dragging him into another. Just like that fateful Saturday in his dorm room, and the many, more amazing sessions afterwards, they quickly became drunk on each other. Strong arms hefted him up off the ground, Tai allowing his body to rest atop his own.

Qrow nibbled at a strong jawline, dipping down to suck along his neck and hearing how the other’s breathing grew heavy. He also grew daring, because his hands wandered an unhurried path down his back to the curve of his ass, squeezing. Arousal jolted through him, Qrow burying his head into the other’s collar just to gather himself a moment. When he felt a bit more in control, he lifted his head to look at Tai.

And god, was he beautiful. His lips were swollen and thoroughly kissed, his face lightly flushed and blue eyes dark with passion as he stared up at him. And when they came together again, when Tai moaned softly into his mouth as their tongues tangled, when one hand twisted into his hair while the other still squeezed his ass, Qrow knew with absolutely certainty that he was moments away from ripping off all their clothes and claiming Tai as his own.

So, it took all his willpower to tap his hand along Tai’s arm twice, their personal signal to hold on. The other’s look of confusion was hard to face even as he obediently drew back.

‘Are you alright?’ Tai asked.

‘Yes.’ He sat up, his knees straddling the other’s waist to give them a little space. Qrow’s hands were as nervous as he was, starting and stopping his signs as he tried to find the right way to ask what he needed to. ‘I just – What do you – How… how far do you want to go?’

Again, the answer was given in action, Tai reaching out to capture his hands before slowly, deliberately guiding them down to rest on the buckle of his belt.

Qrow swallowed hard, heart picking up speed. When his hands were freed, he rose one of them. ‘You’re sure?’

‘Yes.’ Tai replied and the way he smiled at him, so tender, so fond, was almost too much. ‘I trust you, Qrow.’

An emotion tided through him, so strong and immense, it threatened to overspill from his heart and Qrow couldn’t wait another moment to say it. As his hands moved through the signs, he couldn’t help but speak it aloud as well, even if he’d be the only one to hear it: “Tai, I love you.”

At first, Tai was too overcome to respond, hands hovering in silence between them. Then he was sitting up, and it was only the way he suddenly caught him around his waist that kept Qrow from being pitched right out of his lap. Instead, he was pulled so close it felt like their bodies would meld together and swept up in a kiss so intense he swore he saw fireworks behind his eyes. It ignited his own soul so that even when they pulled back, the intensity was still there, their gazes smoldering as they looked upon one another.

‘Me too.’ Tai reciprocated fervidly. ‘Now, show me.’

And so Qrow did, capturing Tai’s lips once more as he laid him back along the quilt and made love to him under the stars.  

~

April 4th, 1968

Qrow would have done anything to have stayed in that fantasyland where society was so far removed it couldn’t touch them and he and Tai could dance along the top of the world forever.

But, they couldn’t.

Eventually, they packed everything up and drove home to the San Fran, going back about their daily lives as they always did.

And, six days later, Martin Luther King was assassinated.

The world fell off its axis and spun out of control.

~

April 6th, 1968

It happened just a half hour before closing.

Qrow, Summer and Tai were the only ones in the shop. After the news had hit, business had stalled, too many people either too afraid to leave their homes or too infuriated that they were rioting in the streets. It was both a blessing and a curse for what came next.

He remembered how it happened so clearly: He was just undoing the notch to the coffee machine to clean the filter for the night, when the thunderous noise of the storefront window shattering filled the air.

Summer screamed, dropping to the floor.

Qrow cursed, bruising his hip against the counter as he lurched back against it, whirling around to see that a third of café rosé was already ablaze. He fell to his knees when another window was broken out, the flames intensifying as a second Molotov cocktail exploded along the floor. He reached out, partially covering Summer’s body with his own, feeling her trembling in fear as she covered her head.

A second scream made his heart drop. “TAI!” He yelled uselessly, only to see the blond vault himself up over the counter before ducking behind it. His eyes were wide with fear, but otherwise appeared to be okay.

But they had to get out of there.

The heat from the fire was already searing, and his voice choked on it as he hauled Summer up off the ground and shoved her towards the exit first. “Come on, the back door!” He pointed as expressively as he could for Tai, who thankfully got the idea and chased after them.

They rushed out of the door, b-lining for the campus rather than the street where the strikes had come from and, when they were far enough away to be both safe from them and the fire, Qrow pushed Summer into Tai’s arms, signing, “Watch her! I’ll get help!” Though pale-faced and wide-eyed, Tai nodded, holding onto the terrified woman tightly. Qrow ran as fast as he could for the nearest telephone, almost pulling out the cord in his panic as he called for the fire department.

No matter how fast he was, there was no saving the shop.

The three of them sat in the grass just inside the police barrier, watching the firefighters fight a losing battle as the flames overtook the roof of the building. The sight had attracted the attention of the whole campus, the entirety of the student body standing in the field to get a look at the tragedy. The officers were doing their best to ward the bolder ones from inching too close.

“What am I going to tell my parents?” Summer sobbed as she twisted the folds of her skirt in her hands. “They poured everything into this place!”

From one side, Tai was just trying his best to comfort her as he rubbed her back.

“Hey now, it, it’ll be okay.” Qrow, on her other, tried as well.

“How?!” She burst out.

He didn’t know. He turned away from her, helplessness weighing him as she continued to cry.

He just didn’t know.

Wanting nothing more than to block out the horrendousness around him, he shut his eyes.

“Qrow!”

Only for them to snap open in surprise, head jerking around to pinpoint the location of that yell.

“Hey lady, you can’t-”

“Get out of my way!”

He spotted Raven just as she was jabbing her elbow into an officer’s ribs, breaking past his guard to rush across the grass. “Qrow!!”

He was on his feet and rushing to meet her instantly, almost being bowled over by the force in which she collided with him.

“You idiot! I thought, I thought!” Her fist slammed into his chest, fighting back tears, “Idiot!!”

“I know, I know. I’m okay though.” Qrow held her tightly, whispering soothingly into her hair. “I’m okay.”

She laughed, the notes strained. “Good. Because you’re not allowed to die until I say so.”

And as he laughed and cried with her, found that for all that was wrong in the world, one missing piece fell back into place and made it just a little more right again.

~

Palo Alto

October 14th, 1981

The first thing that greeted Qrow as he opened the front door to his home was Zwei, the three-year old Corgi yapping hello. “Hey stubby.” He lent down to give him a few affectionate pats, following him through the entryway and into the family room where he could hear the TV running.

Tai was looking much like a yellow roly-poly from the way he was bundled up on the couch in his old quilt. He was watching the screen with rapt attention but when he caught movement in the corner of his eye, he glanced over, brightening immediately. ‘Welcome home!’

‘How are you feeling?’ Qrow asked as he approached, running his fingers through sweat-soaked blond locks. Fever was still going strong then.

‘Furious!’ He signed back harshly. ‘Did you see what Greg just did?!’

He glanced at the TV, realizing a rerun of The Brady Bunch was playing. At the bottom of the screen, the closed captioning was giving the play-by-play of what the characters were saying. The dialogue encoder had been a bit of a strain on their Christmas budget last year (especially when they both still insisted on spoiling their niece and honorary niece rotten), but nothing was worth more than having Tai so overjoyed he was in tears as he swept Qrow up in his arms.

Of course, that also meant that the blond had taken a near permanent residence on the couch as he tried to make up for 35 years of television.

‘You really need to get off the sitcoms.’ He signed to him. ‘Watch sci-fi instead.’

‘Never!’ Tai huffed loudly, only to start coughing, curling up a bit more into his nest.

‘Medicine?’ Qrow asked him once the fit had passed.

‘Please.’

With a nod, he headed into the kitchen. As he poured the cough syrup into the little plastic cap, a jangle of tags told him a shadow had trailed after him. Sure enough, when he looked down, Zwei had his front paws perched on the cabinet door, looking up at him hopefully. “I’m pretty sure you don’t want this buddy.” He joked as he filled a glass with water next. He took pity on the dog all the same, opening the fridge and throwing him a slice of cheese before heading back into the other room.

Though it wasn’t anything even remotely as good as coffee, Tai thanked him all the same, a full-body shudder wracking him as he downed the revolting medicine and chased it with the water. Qrow sat down beside him, leaning back into the cushions. He draped his arm along the back of the couch so the blond could more easily nestle against his side, the two of them watching the rest of the episode together. It wasn’t a very good one, and Qrow found himself zoning out, carding his fingers through Tai’s hair absently as his mind wandered.

“Qrow?”

The croaky, too-soft whisper pulled him out of his trance, and he blinked at the television, realizing the end credits were rolling. He tilted his head to the one who had spoken, not entirely surprised to see his ever-observant partner had already caught onto his sour mood. ‘Sorry.’

‘What’s wrong?’

He shifted back, just enough to free his other arm. ‘Ciel came into class crying today.’

‘Henry?’ Tai guessed, straightening up as well.

He breathed out an irate sigh. ‘Yep. Broke up with her this morning.’

They had both seen it coming from the very first day the couple had joined their ASL class. A vehicular accident had left the petite Hindi woman partially deaf and her doctor had suggested learning sign to help adjust. Tai and he had done their best to give the two some special attention, knowing the transition was hard, but Henry’s participation in the lessons was lackluster at best and Qrow had to keep running interference when the entitled brat kept trying to push Ciel into Cochlear Implants, having to remind them both again and again that it was a high cost, body-blemishing and, most importantly, experimental surgery.

It especially wasn’t worth undergoing it all for a sleaze that wasn’t worth hearing in the first place.

‘What gets me most is his reasoning. Told her it was taking too long to learn.’ Qrow carried on, rolling his eyes. ‘What did he expect? To learn it overnight?! Jackass!’

Amusement gleamed in Tai’s eyes. ‘Not everyone has your patience Qrow.’

‘I’M NOT EVEN PATIENT!’ He replied explosively. Tai reached out, capturing and bringing down his hands, rubbing soothing motions along his knuckles. Every now and again, his finger would catch along the silver ring on Qrow’s right hand; it was one he’d worn for over a decade now, ever since it was given to him by the very same man sitting beside him. It was only a promise ring, but to him, it was as interchangeable as a wedding ring.

His partner’s thoughts must have been somewhere similar, pausing to drop a kiss along the metal band before letting him go to say, ‘You were for me. I’ve never had anyone in my life work so hard to talk to me like you have. That’s always meant the world to me.’

Tai had told him this at least a dozen times before, and Qrow responded in the same, flustered way he always did: ‘Yeah well, how else was I supposed to tell you I love you?’

Instead of teasing him more as he usually did, the blond paused, giving the question some honest thought. ‘Maybe… like this?’

And then, for the second time that day, Tai spoke.

“Love you, Qrow.”

Qrow felt his jaw unhinge, staring back at him in absolute shock as his brain subsequently short-circuited. What?! It had taken Tai years just to be able to say his name as well as he could. When-? How??

With a smile still as full of youth as the day they met, his partner signed, ‘Happy anniversary.’

Qrow sucked in a sharp breath, hardly able to breathe as love sang throughout every inch of him.

And then he found himself tackling Tai down onto the couch, suddenly quite determined to kiss all that love right into him.

The blond managed to fend him off long enough to say, ‘Wait! I’m still sick!’

‘Don’t care. It’s worth it.’ Qrow allowed himself a moment to enjoy the fond way the other looked upon him, before bringing their lips together once more.

Tai would always be worth it.

And if anyone asked Qrow, he’d still tell them patience was for those who couldn’t figure out how to do things quickly.

He’d also tell them it wasn’t patience that one needed when loving someone.

Because patience was a fickle, thin thing too easily broken.

No.

What was needed wasn’t patience; it was perseverance.

The drive to never give in or give up, no matter the strife or uncertainties faced, whether it be several years of vigilant study just to effectively communicate with his deaf partner without need of a pen and paper on hand.

Or, just dealing with a terrible case of the flu come morning.

[nancypullen]

Friday!

Holy cow, this week got away from me.  At least I checked everything off my list.  Well, the wrapping room is still kind of a hot mess, but I can close that door and pretend that everything is fine...just fine.  We’re on our way out the door for a quick trip to Atlanta so it’ll have to wait.  We’re driving down to have dinner with the mister’s siblings and mother for her birthday.  We’ll be home probably by lunchtime on Sunday.  Sunday is the 16th. Know what’s happening on the 16th? THE MISS UNIVERSE PAGEANT! This little jaunt is seriously cutting into my prep time.  I’ve been slacking anyway because of the holidays, and now I’ll have to cram my research into just one evening pre-pageant.  I did already see Miss USA’s national costume.  She’s dressing as a giant rose.  She had an enormous red rose on her head and a glittery, red gown that she rips the skirt off of before strutting across the stage.  You know, like a fragile blossom.  I confess, I don’t much care for Sarah Rose Summers, the current Miss USA and she’s been a typical ugly American while in Thailand for the Miss Universe pageant.  She actually posted to the internet a video where she’s giggling with a couple other contestants and mocking Miss Vietnam and Miss Cambodia for not speaking better English.  I’m going out on a limb here and guessing that their English is better than her Vietnamese.  Ms. Summers speaks just one language so maybe ridiculing another’s attempt at speaking a new one is bad form, hmm?   Is it unpatriotic to say that I hope she’s out in the first round?  Miss USA rarely gets eliminated that early since we foot the bill for most of the pageant.  On a brighter note, for the first time ever the judging panel is ALL FEMALE.  I’m hoping that’s a good thing.  Maybe interview questions will carry more weight than cleavage? Gee, you’d think with my snarky comments above that I’m not a fan.  Sadly, I’m still a complete sucker for sparkling gowns and tiaras.  I can’t wait to see all of the national costumes - that’s my favorite part (you can expect an in-depth report).  I’m eager to watch princesses glide across the stage in their evening gowns so I can ooh and aah.  I have never in my life had an occasion to wear a gown like that.  You can’t count proms, at least back in my day.  Now the girls wear over the top dresses with pounds of sequins and trains and all that.  My high school was in North Pole, Alaska and our options were limited.  I went to three proms and my senior year dress was my absolute favorite.  I’ll have to dig up some pictures to share.  Anywayyyyy, I’ve missed that window of opportunity to ever wear a beautiful gown, no one wants to see a granny in sequins or a floating train, so I live vicariously through pageants.

Come on, we all wish we could twirl around in beautiful dresses.

That said, no matter how beautiful my dress, I would never mock anyone’s attempt to speak a very difficult language.  However, I would mock the heck out of Miss Vietnam for this national costume.

 Though I have to admit, my husband would rather see me dressed in a skirt made of bread than the fanciest ball gown.  If I wore a crown of pepperoni he’d be over the moon. And there it is, my crash landing back in reality.  Guess I’d better pack a bag and ease on down the road to Atlanta. Put on something pretty today - and wear an imaginary crown, we’ve all earned it!