#i live for the last drop's kids squad

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Intercity Relations (An Arcane one-shot)

Description: Spending years studying Interstate relations at Piltover's academy, you made both allies and rivals during your studies. Unlucky for you, Cassandra Kiramman hated your guts ever since you first met. The woman ensured you'd never see Ixtal or Shumira but rather serve as an intercity negotiator between Zaun and Piltover.

Pairing: Vander x afab!reader, NSFW, the reader being born and raised in Piltover™ (so expect some cultural differences, mostly Vander teasing the reader very lovingly). Warnings: I did my best to go over all the typos, but some certainly made it through. The entire 'plot' just for the sake of convenience, age difference (reader being around 25, Vander should be pushing 40 - the math doesn't add up, fuck it), should be set one year after Vander became a dad™, so we aren't in any rush, vile language, mentions of violence and substance abuse. Also, unprotected sex - don't be silly, wrap your willy! The smut is very gentle tho, very loving and fluffy. Jayce and Ezreal being supportive golden retriever besties™. Subtle Jayce and Viktor shenanigans (will miss if you squint your eyes). A/N: I wanted to write something for Vander for so so so long, but never got the inspiration. Three years after the release of Arcane, I finally made my long-lasting dream come true. It's also my first smut after a long time, so I hope you won't find it clunky and lame. Enjoy reading! Music inspo: Mainly by Seven (Jung Kook), Love Again (stolen from Ezreal's playlist, performed by Baekhyun), Moonlight by Kali Uchis & The Weekend by BIBI & 88rising. Word count: 21K (and I fucking ooop-) Music playlist: ezreal's bedroom bangers

The politics and schemes of Piltover's creme of society never ceased to surprise you. That position should've been yours. Heimerdinger more or less confirmed it a week ago - you should've been the negotiator between Shurima and Piltover regarding business and foreseeable Noxian invasion. The Yordle quite literally said you were the 'best suited' for such negotiations, that he'd realized it soon after you started your studies. From the get-go, it was supposed to be you who'd end up with this position. Truth be told, however, the council members despised you for all they got. You weren't some high-class Nancy who'd flatter them with expensive gifts and false compliments - but you were fucking good at negotiating. You were the best of your class. It wasn't Kacey who could barely tie her own shoelaces or God forbid Damien, who had trouble remembering even the most basic negotiation principles. It was you.

Studying at the Academy was an honor, you were aware of that. Your family poured everything into securing your spot there, which you were endlessly grateful for. The Academy gave you a better chance at life than you'd otherwise get. Being a middle-class Piltoverian wasn't as bad, per se, but it wasn't a win either. Anyone in your family knew what poverty or starvation was, had money for medicine and nice clothes, quality food, and your flat just outside downtown wasn't bad either, but you didn't plan on taking after your mother's hat shop. Making hats wasn't a bad hobby, both you and your brother enjoyed creating new designs and spending time with momma, but it didn't fulfill you.

It could be around your 10th birthday when you announced you'd like to be a diplomat one day. Your mom and older brother scoffed at it - no way a small child would aim to be a diplomat, right? Most kids wanted to be princesses or singers, they didn't want to deal with interstate relations. But... The phase never went away. It was clear as day that you weren't aiming for anything else as your fifteenth birthday rolled around - you kept up good grades, went to debate classes, and traveled to Holdrum and Kumangra to take part in various debate competitions; you didn't win all of them, but your arguments always left the jurors in awe. When you were leaving high school, it was recommended for you to apply for the Academy's scholarship.

At that moment your mom finally cracked and said 'Fine, let's give it a shot'. The tender was as enjoyable as could be, there were other excellent kids after your spot at the Academy, after all. It took numerous tryouts and evaluations - the Academy first accounted for your past academic achievements, then came assessment interviews, then various intelligence tests, ending it all with a few rounds of debates. Some of those were nearly nerve-crushing. When you were informed of getting the scholarship, you were also informed about all the strict rules you'd have to obey - starting with a strict dress code, frequent one-on-one evaluations with the dean of your faculty, and ending with oddly specific dorm and library rules.

During the matriculation, you'd meet your best friend for the few following years - he came fashionably late (presumably sleeping in), barging into the dead-silent hall with his clothes hastily put on, his hair a fucking mess. As the boy stood on the stairway (looking like a deer in the headlights), the rector stuttered, watching the latecomer with matching intensity. Leaning over to the boy, you'd grab his sleeve and force him to sit next to you. Honestly, you liked Jayce ever since you first laid your eyes on him. If there was a definition of conventionally attractive, Jayce was it - hazel colored eyes, a bright smile full of straight teeth, clean-shaven face, a perfect haircut that was taken care of (gell and everything), and built like a fucking mountain with his 6'7 in height, as you'd learn later. His facial features were very pleasurable to look at. As you said - Jayce was the 'it'.

"I really thought this ceremony starts at 10 a.m... Two weeks from now." - The man mumbled to you, putting his bag down next to his seat. As he leaned closer to you over, the smell of some nice and surely very expensive cologne tingled in your nose. "They changed it last week on a whim, probably to avoid the matriculation overlapping with Progress Day. Wouldn't know about it if I wasn't moved into dorm already." "Makes enough sense. Did I miss something important?" "Something something, the great future, Piltover, something something, you are our new hope. Something along these lines." - You repeated, chuckling at yourself. Your brother always told you you were fucking horrendous at making friends, but the latecomer seemed to appreciate your sense of humor. Smirking at you, he licked his lips and offered you his palm under the table.

"Name's Jayce Talis." - The guy whispered, feeling as your palm slipped into his. His skin was nicely warm and so soft. A rich Piltie, you assumed. - "What's yours?" "Y/N Y/L/N." - Whispering back, you shook hands, still grinning at one another. - "Hi." "Oh, doesn't your family run a hat shop or something? Mrs. Kiramman loves that place to death, had to endure a fashion show of her and her daughter's hats tailored according to the latest fashion trends in Ixtal." - Jayce wondered, clearly memorizing the lane by heart.

"Yeah, I helped make these. My mom runs it. I was supposed to take over the shop when she'd feel like she couldn't do it anymore." - You explained swiftly, completely forgetting why you two were sitting in the hall. - "You know councilor Kiramman? The Cassandra Kiramman?" "Mhm." - The Jayce guy nodded, showing you dimples in his cheeks. He was getting hotter by the second. - "Also know the dean." "The dean?" - You squirmed, shooting him an amazed look. - "Are you like a child of some super-important politician?" "No. I just know how to make good childhood friends." "Geez. I had to fight for a way in." "My mom had been dead set on my future since day one. Surely, if Cait was a few years older, they'd even arrange our marriage." - Jayce scoffed, turning his eyes to the dean, a Yordle named Heimerdinger. - "How did you fight your way in? Gladiator style, cage match, blood, sand, and everything?" - He muttered, making you snicker as you pretended to listen to the speech. The matriculation had almost two hours of runtime, so you still had an hour and a half ahead of you.

"More of a streetfight style - who'd beat up the most kids to pulp won the scholarship." "Sounds way more exciting than just getting in because you have a rich friend." "I don't think that's the case." - With a smile, you bumped his rib with your elbow. - "Councilor Heimerdinger doesn't seem to be the type to just let anyone study here. We're Piltover's future, aren't you listening to his words? There's gotta something in that noggin' of yours." "I don't think you'd be the type to beat kids into pulps either. Actually, you look like someone I'd love to be friends with. Truthfully, I don't know anyone else inside the Academy, which terrifies me. I'm not a rich kid and I'm not good at talking to these rich assholes." "Didn't you say you're tight with the Kirammans?" "Caitlyn is anything but a rich asshole. She runs her mouth faster than her brain, bless her soul. Sometimes, she blows Mrs. Kiramman out of the water, leaving me speechless. If I were to talk to her mother like this, my mom would lock me up in a cellar until I'd apologize." "Your mom isn't like..." "No." - Jayce ended the discussion categorically. Since he didn't seem to like the topic, you hummed and nodded. "For your information, I think I'd be able to beat up that kid." - Pointing at a veiny, super-skinny ginger with glasses sitting two rows in front of you. - "... But I'm keener on logic and words, you got me there. Nonetheless, I'll take your words as a compliment, Talis. I'd like to... Be friends, I mean." "Lunch after?" - Jayce asked simply, pulling out a paper and a pen on his desk. First, you were concerned; was he about to take notes? Surely not, right? Then, he looked over at you with one of the most devilish grins you'd seen until that day. - "And tick-tack-toe now?" "God, you're already my best friend, Talis." - Without hesitation, you started to draw the playing board, sticking your tongue out of your mouth due to sheer concentration.

As promised, the two of you would set out to have lunch after the assembly, talking about everything and nothing. Talis was a great company - charming, funny, witty, and handsome. What he saw in you? No idea, but the two of you clicked right away. Even after years, you couldn't decipher what Jayce saw in you. The field of your research and studies were as different as could be, so you usually didn't dwell too much on such topics. Of course, you asked 'How are the studies going?' but it was never the centerpiece of your conversation. While you dealt with human relations, Jayce was a scientist, working with some miraculous blue stone (no idea what that was about). It only took a week to realize you'd found the best friend for the few following years. On the very second day, Talis showed you around his workshop, designating it as your hangout spot outside the faculty - it was a small maisonette with an enormous balcony and a very tiny bathroom. The upper floor was holding a bed and a couch. Since it also had a small fridge, you could just buy some beers and snacks for late-night study sessions and screw the dorm.

This friendship seemed fishy. People like Jayce Talis (attractive, genius, and charming) usually didn't seek company with the likes of you. Piltover was just a rat race, people climbing on the social ladders, striving for a better life. Jayce, on the other hand, didn't seem to be that guy. It seemed like he genuinely doesn't give a fuck. Also, Caitlyn Kiramman liked you, ensuring she'd like you even if you'd crawl out of the deepest part of the Undercity. Just as Jayce informed you, Cait's mouth ran much faster than her brain. You found this part of Kiramman endearing. Even though Talis sent you nothing but good vibes to you, it was hard to just accept this pure form of friendship. It took him around a week and a half to truly convince you he isn't hanging out with you for some insane, out-of-this-world reason. The guy simply liked being around you. That was also the first time Jayce sang and danced around you while studying in his condo - he was an awful singer.

Keeping the promise, you'd gather early the following Monday, ready to celebrate Progress Day. The festival was kicked off with yet another of Heimer's speeches (of which you and Talis appropriately made fun; nothing mean, just stupid jokes here and there). The rest of the day was in your hands - and dear God, you had a lot to wander through. Various attractions from all around the world, newest inventions, doubtful souvenirs, and snack stands... You simply loved the Progress Day. As you absentmindedly licked on your ice-creams, a boy stopped you. Neither of you could know that this particular man will soon be the last member of your party.

While also being very good-looking, the boy couldn't be more different from Jayce. He was around your age and based on his uniform, he was too a student at the Academy. His blonde hair was stylized perfectly, his blue eyes were piercing, you'd swear you hadn't seen clearer skin before and his facial features resembled those of a sculpture or a painting. He'd been considerably shorter than Jayce, but equally as handsome... Also, he was visibly distressed.

"Uh, hi you two. Hi. How you doin'?." - The boy greeted you, shaking your hand loosely as he fidgeted around, looking over his shoulders. You were pretty positive the stranger didn't even look you in the face before gripping your hand. "Hi?" - You asked, furrowing at him. He'd been shaking your hand for over a minute, still searching for something in the crowd... Or someone. - "Do you need something?" "I'm in a bit of trouble. Hi." - The boy jumped over to shake Jayce's hand frantically. - "Could you help me? It won't take long." "What can we do for you?" - Jayce asked. You've been both grinning by that point. The boy's behavior was funny. "I'm trying to run away from my blind date. She's been going on a tangent about how we 'belong together even in the heavens' and that I must be the guy her 'oracle saw in the tarot cards'."

"That sounds scary." - Jayce admitted, carefully twisting his palm from the stranger's grasp. The blonde boy, however, didn't seem to notice as he still looked around for his blind date. - "What do you say, Y/N? I'd be pretty scared if you pulled out a stunt like that." "I was just about to get to what my oracle said about you, Talis, but I mean... It sounds like the start of a horror story. I'm down to whatever." "Geez, you guys are the best and I mean that. My name's Ezreal, by the way."

When Ez piped down a bit and wasn't searching for the mysterious oracle girl, he was good company. As you walked through the main square and adjacent streets, he explained that he was studying history at the Academy and that you were in the same year. His parents were archeologists who traveled all over Runeterra so he was often left in Piltover under the care of his uncle, famous professor Lymere. That's how Ezreal got into the Academy anyway - quoting Ezreal, 'it definitely wasn't his intellectual prowess'. The guy was in awe when Jayce also invited Ezreal to his convo to share some beers while waiting for the fireworks to go off. Even though he seemed to be a social butterfly, Ezreal admitted people didn't stick around for long, often calling him 'annoying' or 'difficult to be around'; Jayce's invitation genuinely moved him. That's how you met your two best friends in the whole wide world.

The three of you were so different that you completed each other. You've been the most grounded in reality - studying political situations and people gave you a good insight into the world around you. If the two boys felt like arguing with someone, you were their person - you could go on for hours, debating like your life depended on it, beating them with facts grounded in reality.

Ezreal, on the other hand, was the dreamer and romantic. Boy, oh boy, his romantic endeavors were something - each week, you'd have to commiserate and listen to him obsessing over a different girl. You and Jayce would be the first to know all the details about his latest miserable breakup and future plans. He'd been prone to dramatize and exaggerate. Also, while being street-smart and intelligent (to a degree), Ezreal could come across as very naive and innocent. It was fun watching him not having a clue about his romantic interest's innuendos or hints, ignoring it all like the sweet summer child he was. You'd seen a lot of his romantic failures, if you had to be honest - the boy often invited you and Jayce for hangouts with his newest discovery (secretly hoping to set you up), and at times, you had to do your best not to start hysterically laughing right into his face. You loved Ezreal.

Jayce was the scientist of your group - he'd constantly lived in the world of wonder, progress, and inventions, constantly building towards a better future. His grind never stopped for anything. You and Ezreal would listen to his drunken rambles about how he'll change the world one day - you liked to believe Jayce. His dreams sounded nice. Despite Ezreal's best hopes, the two of you never hit it off - there was never a spark of romantic interest between you. Jayce often joked he didn't have time for romance, but if he would, he'd definitely ask you out - at that, you'd laugh and say 'Stop keeping your damn hopes up, this ain't happening, Talis'. Anytime you'd bump into something you didn't understand or felt emotionally vulnerable and wanted to share with someone, Jayce became your go-to person. His condo became the party's designed hangout spot, so you'd spend most of your Academy days there, watching over Piltover with dumb smiles.

All and all, you couldn't ask for better friends.

It was also this duo that expected your acceptance letter with batted breath alongside you. As usual, you'd barge into his condo. The two were talking before Ezreal raised his eyes to you frantically waving the letter around. Before you barged in, Ezreal was leaning over Jayce's shoulder (talking about Rachel... Again) and watched as the scientist connected wires in his latest contraption.

You and Jayce graduated earlier this summer, actually. Jayce, as you expected, finished his studies with a red diploma. You'd expect him to move out of Piltover, and work on his tech in collaboration with scientists from the other states - to your surprise, the man chose to work under the science faculty of the Academy. Ezreal, on the other hand, had to retake two classes - maths and geography of Runeterra... Despite all odds, this was a major success in your books. He'd been expecting to retake at least four. "It's here, bozos." - You announced, demanding their full attention. Ezreal straightened up, walking closer to you - Jayce just turned around in his chair and waited for you to start reading. "I'm sure it's Shurima. Like, 100% positive. Heimer talked about you enthusiastically last week, Y/N. I've heard it all." - Coach Ezreal mumbled supportively while walking behind you to massage your shoulders. As he patted your shoulder, you nodded at his words and let out a huge sigh before tearing the envelope outside. You had to be the next Piltoverian diplomat. It had to be you. It was always supposed to be you.

"Dear Ms. Y/N Y/L/N." - The letter started. - "It is a pleasure to welcome you on board our organization as the newest foreign service specialist. That's a good sign, no?" - You took a breath in, looking at both the boys; your fingers were trembling, breath shallow. "Jesus, don't stop in the middle of the letter!" - Ez exclaimed with a furrow. "Just go on." - Jayce mumbled, hanging on your lips. "Due to exceeding the number of current foreign specialists in the field, we are pleased to announce your new position as the official negotiator between the two states of Piltover and Zaun... Your accommodation in the state of Zaun will be... In case of unclarities, please contact..." - The blood in your veins froze as you read more and more. - "... Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Oh no..." - Ezreal sighed softly, his expression sagging as he watched tears forming in your eyes. You could barely breathe, your fingers shaking, your heart beating rapidly. You've never felt more betrayed in your life - this should've been your fucking moment to spread your wings and leave Piltover. You were supposed to explore the world just like you and Ezreal dreamed. You've been supposed to take part in negotiations between nations and... - "It's okay." "It's not okay!" - Both the boys' hearts broke upon seeing you break down, squealing at the top of your lungs. - "I've worked so fucking hard and everything..." - Jayce offered you an empty bottle so you could break it by throwing it on the ground, letting the anger out. It was better to clean up some mess than see you in ruins. - "... And that bitch, that old foul hag, that fucking snake!" - (Another bottle) - "I've always known she wouldn't fucking let me go. The moment I met her during my evaluations, I knew she hated me." - (Another bottle) - "To her bad fucking luck, Heimerdinger liked me, so she couldn't just get rid of me." - Your hand stretched out for another bottle, but Jayce stopped you. "I don't think she dislikes you..." - Talis approached you from behind, carefully massaging your shoulder. - "I just think something's going on in Zaun. The council would have someone who lived here their whole life and can trust as their diplomat, rather than someone who's not oriented in the problems and dynamics."

"Hey, I gotta repeat that geography class just because I looked at the professor funny. No one even wants to employ me." - Ezreal spoke slowly and softly, smiling at you. Grinning at his statement, you started to dry out your tears. "You gotta repeat it because the professor found out you're fooling around with his daughter." "Ehh... Maybe, but that's not the point." - Ezreal giggled, smoothing your shoulder. - "Listen, Y/N, you're the smartest and prettiest girl I know. You're able to inspire people, talk them through everything, and argue for hours when it comes down to it. And... The Undercity's not that bad, really. I know a few dudes selling fun stuff. I can introduce you to some of them to get you started?" "Ezreal..." - It was a high-pitched whine as you hugged him, letting out a long breath. His words made you emotional, moving you until you felt a fuzzy warmth spreading inside your chest.

"But... If I'm the prettiest girl you know, why didn't you ask me out yet?" - You joked, giggling. Being transferred to the Undercity wasn't all bad. It had its advantages - you'd stay close to your family and best friends. You didn't have to hope you'd bump into each other once a year, you could see them anytime you wanted. You'd be on hand in case your ma or bro needed help with the hat shop. You didn't have to leave your old life behind. "Because I respect you too much to let you fool around with someone like me." - The blonde sighed, hugging you back. Jayce was already on cleaning duty, brewing you all a cup of hot cocoa. It was exactly what you needed, in his expert opinion. As usual, Jayce was right. "... It's because you know I'd see right through your bullshit, right?" "... Yeah, you got me there, girl."

Two weeks later:

The Undercity was definitely not what you'd expect. First things first, it smelled horrible - when you talked to the lady who was introducing you to the issues at hand, she warned you about the possibility of wearing a mask. The Grey (fumes from factories located in the Underbelly) was making the air heavy. So far, so good; while the place reeked, it never got too bad. Secondly, the people didn't cut your head off when meeting you. The Trenchers were indifferent when it came to you; it was clear as day you weren't native to Zaun, but they didn't care much. The number of Enforcers traveling to Zaun was actually quite impressive. You've been worried you'd have to fight for your life, but just like Ezreal promised, Zaun wasn't that bad. Thirdly, your newly assigned condo and monthly payment were good. It gave you enough financial freedom to be fully self-sufficient, which felt simply wonderful. People from the agency acted respectfully towards you, putting weight on Jayce's words; maybe it was a last-minute decision to assign you to Zaun. Maybe, something was brewing on the horizon.

Your assigned informant from the agency told you to ask for Sheriff Grayson of the Piltover's Enforcers. If she knows who's the authority in Lanes, she could introduce you to them and get you accustomed. The problem with Zaun was simple - the city wanted independence from Piltover. If you wanted proof, all you had to do was to take the last riot into account. Your job was to secure a fool-proof plan that would benefit both parties while not degrading either. Well, with Piltover's attitude towards Zaun, that ask turned into a whole another pain in the ass, you realized fairly soon-ish.

Sheriff Grayson turned out to be a reasonable, charming woman with a lot of wisdom regarding both sides of the conflict; she referred to someone named 'Vander', the man who had a reputation and respect among the Zaunites. Ezreal wasn't aware of anyone named Vander, but he knew a black-market trader named Benzo. The blonde swore that if anyone knew Vander, it would be his dealer. "You look like you're acclimatizing fairly well." - The boy brought up as you locked the door to your condo, leaving to see Benzo. - "How is Zaun treating you?" "Hm... It's not as bad as I'd assume, no one tried stabbing me so far." - It was a bad joke, but Ez chuckled nonetheless. Walking down the stairs, your elbow mindlessly entwined with his as usual. You were happy Ezreal came to visit you in the Lanes. Throughout the last week, you've only talked to Sheriff Grayson and your sweet land lady who also had dementia.- "I'm just... Lonely. The two of you are living on the other side of Sun Canal. Getting over that damn bridge is hard, even for a diplomat. That said, the folk are more or less nice around here. They don't welcome me with arms wide open, but they're polite so far."

"Sounds like you'll get used to living here before you know it. You'd get along even with someone as demonic as old prof Lymere, on my honor." "Your uncle sounds like a tough nut. I appreciate the trust, though, young Mr. Lymere. Big preach." "After you, m'lady Y/L/N." - Ezreal exclaimed dramatically, holding the front door open for you; he even bowed, having you giggle under your breath.

Seeing Zaun through Ezreal's eyes was fascinating. The blonde definitely spent a lot of time here, knowing most of the small shops and dark alleys you wouldn't dare to go to alone. As you walked through the Lanes, he told you the history of it all; how Zaun came to be, what were its most historically significant locations, and a bit about their culture (Ezreal described it as 'pretty grim' and moved on). Benzo's pawn shop was located just off the main street - it wasn't in any grim alley where you wouldn't go in a million years or anything like that - it was a pretty nice place if you'd have to be honest. Sure, most of the goods were giving 'not acquired legally' vibes, but that wasn't your jurisdiction, so you didn't bother commenting on it. Benzo himself wasn't a bad person either, you liked him. After Ezreal introduced you, the atmosphere even shifted to a lighthearted meeting of two acquaintances. A small boy was slacking around the pawn shop, goggling his enormous brown eyes at you, but Benzo soon sent him away.

"At least, he'll have something to tell the other nuisances about." - Benzo sighed, clearly referring to other children growing up in the Lanes. - "Young Mr. Lymere. What do I owe the pleasure?" "I'm not here for business today, Benzo. My friend needs a bit of help." "Ah, really? And what can I do for the young lady? Anything particular she's looking for?" "Not something, but someone. She's not... Interested in buying, if you will." - Ezreal explained as he played with various trinkets lying around the shop. You didn't want to talk until you'd be introduced, so you simply stood around and watched the exchange. - "Y/N was sent here by the council." - In that instant, Benzo's demeanor switched to hostile for a bit. "Ah, wonderful." - The man gritted with a forced smile. - "What do these jerks need?" "I'm here to handle diplomatic communications between Piltover and Zaun. Seems like the council finally considered Zaun's declaration of independence, the one that happened a year ago. I'm here to ensure things go as smoothly as they can. I mean no harm."

Benzo watched you with a furrow, thinking about his answer. Ezreal leaned into the counter with a mischievous smile on his lips. - "Y/N is one of the best people I've met, Benzo, I can vouch for her if my word means anything to you." "Sorry if I came across as an old bastard, the folk often call me one." - The pawnshop laughed, offering you his palm. - "Name's Benzo, young lady. I'm the owner of this pawnshop, as Mr. Lymere surely informed you. Nice to know someone cares."

Yeah, only if you cared voluntarily, huh? You accepted the handshake nonetheless, offering him the sweetest smile you mustered. - "Y/N Y/L/N, call me Y/N. Nice to meet you, Benzo." "See, I told you, you'll be fine anywhere." - Ezreal smiled, nudging your side. "Who's the poor soul you're looking for?" "Sheriff Grayson referred me to someone going by 'Vander'. Said he's a geezer with one hell of a reputation around here. If there would be anyone these folk listen to, she said, it's Vander. Ever heard of him? I'd like to go over what the people could want so I could relay it to the council and start with the negotiations."

"If I know that old rascal? Ha!" - Benzo started laughing again. You liked him more and more by the minute. - "Everyone around here does. He runs a pub, you had to cross it on your way here. The Last Drop, does that ring any bells?" "Oh, yeah!" - Both you and Ezreal nodded in unison. The main pub in the largest square of the Lanes, a local district filled to the brim with former black market operations as Ezreal informed you just half an hour prior. - "Looked welcoming." "You bet, two lovebirds like you won't find a better place to make out anywhere around here." "Oh! That's not... You got it wrong!" - You exclaimed, falling into a fit of wholehearted laughter. This was the first time you laughed during your stay in Zaun - you laughed so hard your belly hurt, tears streaming down your face. "I know we've been over this, but this genuinely hurts my feelings, Y/N." - Ezreal muttered, fighting laughter himself. - "Anyway, thanks for the help, Benzo."

"You ever go there to have a cold one by any chance?" - You wondered, wiping the tears, calming down. Each time people assumed you and Ezreal were a thing, this was your reaction - breaking down, laughing so hard you cried. - "I've got the feeling I'll be spending a lot of time there." "I'll see you around, Y/N." "Can't wait!" - As the door closed behind you, Ezreal nudged your side again before letting you entwine your elbow with his. It helped you feel safe, especially in places such as this.

The Last Drop. Entering the pub, you got a feeling this is precisely the place where everything goes down. This was your first time being in a place such as this, so you looked around with batted breath while Ezreal led you to a table, nodding at a few people here and there. It genuinely felt like the lair of all the sin and alcohol. People played pool, some sulked around drinking, dancing in front of a small jukebox, playing cards or arm wrestling, laughing, and joking around. Each game was played for a bid, this pub was gamble-core galore. While you never even tried playing poker for money, Ezreal genuinely seemed to be acquainted with some of the Last Drop's patrons, nodding their way. These people felt different than those who you met until that moment... More alive, more fun, nicer. Well, until a skirmish broke out in front of the bar; a 6'8 man with chemtech augmentations punched another dude square in the face, resulting in both of them being dragged out by other patrons.

And that was when you first saw him.

He'd been talking with a woman sitting at the bar, snickering at her remark while absentmindedly polishing pints. The man, whoever he fucking was, looked like a sculpture. First, there was the smile - the mischievous spark in it, something vaguely boyish in his eyes as he looked at the woman, his watery-colored eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Secondly, you admired his facial structure. There was something so... Good-looking about his jaw and small, nicely shaped lips. You liked it when he smiled and immediately started imagining if you could make him laugh. Your heart skipped a beat upon that imagination. Thirdly, his hair and beard were visibly kept in good shape, but overgrown; it looked good on him, though, which was a look not a lot of men could pull off. And fucking lord, he was so well built. Broad shoulders, strong forearms, nicely shaped waist that begged to be hugged by your arms. Piltover didn't have men like similar to this kind, you were sure of that - he appeared to be gruff, but the mischievous smile told you otherwise. His posture and body screamed dominance, but his eyes whispered safety.

There was no doubt in your mind that the mysterious bartender was probably twice your age and that you definitely shouldn't be thirsting over him. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't look away from him - the longer you watched him, the more deranged scenarios devoured your mind. Witch each piece of clothing disappearing, your mouth felt drier, the boiling hot blood traveling right between your thighs. It was impossible to look away from him. His presence ensured you wouldn't pay attention to anything else as you sat there, gravitating towards him like a moth to a lamp.

Each move he made was like cinema to you and each time his lips moved as he talked to the lady, butterflies started tingling in your belly. You wanted him to talk to you this way, was it a far cry to imagine you'd catch his attention? What were you thinking? He was a Trencher, you were a Piltie; two utterly different worlds. This guy probably wouldn't be interested in you, would he? Well, a girl can dream...

"Ezreal to Y/N. Are you okay?" - Ezreal bumped into your shoulder, making you finally look away from the bartender. Clearing your throat, trying not to appear as a flustered deer in the headlights, you looked at the spunky kid standing next to your table, seemingly getting your order. Her expression was unreadable and judging by her age and the bruise under her eye, she wasn't working here voluntarily. Who was she? "Sorry, I got lost in my thoughts. What's the best drink you have?" - You tried sounding at least a bit excited, but the kid just pointed to the menu and walked away. - "She seems friendly." "Probably got herself into some sort of trouble and got punished by helping that Vander guy, don't take it too personally." - Ezreal muttered, watching as you got up. - "Where are you going?" "I'll the bartender about the best drink… And about Vander." "And will you at least get a beer for me?" - Ez cried out as you disappeared into the crowd showing him thumbs, too busy staring at the mysterious man to look back at Ez.

If you weren’t mesmerized by the bartender, your shoulder wouldn’t bump into a very imposing woman who, at the time, played pool with her buddies. If you hadn’t bumped into her, she wouldn’t spill and break her pint on the ground. If her beer hadn’t been spilled, she wouldn’t turn around to take a good look at you. Upon the sound of shattering glass, the pub fell silent for a second, everyone turning their attention to the two of you. Before Ezreal got the time to get off his ass to get you outta there, the woman shoved you to the ground; so harshly that your head hit the wooden flooring. The bartender was forgotten as you grunted in pain, picking yourself off the ground; you didn’t have to bother, though. The woman gripped the hem of your jacket, making you tiptoe as she forcibly invaded your space - even though you didn’t consider yourself to be the smallest bean in the room, her physical build definitely overshone yours. She watched you like fucking prey, ready to kick or punch your teeth in.

“The fuck do you think you doin’, huh?” - The woman gritted through her teeth, biting down on a toothpick. - “You're not local, are you? Fucking Pilties, thinking you own everything 'round here, actin' like nothin' can happen to you. Guess what, princess.” “It was an accident. Put her down so we can talk this through. Sevika, c'mon.” - The friend she played against was trying to get you outta there. Even though it was a nice sentiment from the stranger, Sevika scoffed as her palms pulled you even closer.

Holy shit. Were you about to get your soul kicked out of you just two weeks after moving into Zaun? Had to be some sort of speed run record, you were positive.

“As if. Pilties gotta learn their lesson, just like we learned ours back on the bridge. Better if this pretty little thing learns it soon on.” “I’ll buy you another round, how 'bout that?” - You choked out with trouble, catching her palms in yours as you did your best to defuse the situation. Ezreal was standing just next to you now, ready to get into a fight if it would get to it. The boy, bless him, being a sweet summer child was still willing to fight for your dignity and honor. - “I’m sure we can talk about it.” “That’s all you, fucking Pilties - all talk and no walk. Zaun isn’t for people like you. You don’t belong here, sweetcheeks, you ruined our lives and now,…” - With each word, Sevika brought you closer, tightening the grip on your t-shirt. Just as you started to feel her breath on your cheeks, someone else stepped into the spectacle - someone's palm circled around her forearm, forcing her to put you back down.

It was him, the man you were mesmerized with. The bartender. The tender expression and feelings in his eyes were replaced with an unpleasant furrow directed towards Sevika. Now that he was closer, you realized he was even more handsome than you assumed. His head was cocked towards his shoulder, his brows knitted together, veins on his palm and forearm prominent due to the force he applied on Sevika's grip.

“'t’s enough.” - The man said quietly and slowly, the tension immediately defusing into thin air as your feet touched the ground. - “‘t was an accident, nothin’ more. Lass said she’ll buy you a new round, so I don’t see any problem 'ere. This is not how we welcome people 'round here.” "Old man, did you already forget..." - Sevika gasped for air, the muscles on her arm tensing as she got ready to pack a hefty punch to the man. The bartender, however, remained cool as a cucumber - simply stared at her, not flinching out of the way. "Of all the folk 'round, I'm the one who remembers everythin'. Also, you should remember it's unwise to threaten the guy who pours the drinks 'round here." "Let's get you some air, you." - Sevika's companion mutters, tugging her towards the door. - "Let's go for a walk, c'mon."

"Hey." - When Sevika was out of the door, the life in the pub started moving again - people got back to their gambling, arm wrestling, and talking, seemingly forgetting about anything even happening. The bartender was now turned to you, patting your shoulder gently while leading you towards the bar. - "You alrite?" "I'm whole, which is better than I anticipated. Sorry for causing trouble during your shift, though. Must be a lot as it is." "Huh?" - That smirk... His damned smirk made you forget about who you've been and what you were supposed to be doing in the Last Drop. - "Trouble? Sevika? Don't take it personally. I know that can be hard to do, but still. Local folk are usually much nicer."

"I've noticed." - You nodded, flushing simply because he was talking to you. Christ, you were down bad, almost starting to feel like Ezreal. - "Been living here for the past two weeks. You people are... Indifferent. But better than you being hostile." "Indifferent?" - The guy repeated after you, sending you a small, warm smile. - "That's a first. Never been called indifferent before. That a compliment?" "Depends on if you'd like to take it as such, I suppose." - His expression made you smile back at him, heart pounding in your chest. "Y'know what? I'll take it as one." - His chuckle almost sent you spiraling, making you smile at him dumbfoundedly. - "So, what can I do you for?"

"I would want a beer for that gentleman over there." - Pointing over at Ezreal, the boy just waved in your direction. - "And a drink for me." "Ordering 'a drink' doesn't narrow it enough I'm afraid, sweetheart." "What's your best drink, then?" - You wondered, enjoying the atmosphere and banter you had going on. "Do you like surprises?" "I can do without them." - You sighed in defeat. - "I can make an exception, though. One-time ocassoon, tho, don't take your chances." "Wouldn't dream of it."

While he mixed the drinks, you were keeping him company. Letting the banter flow, he started asking you why you moved to Zaun, whether you're suffering or enjoying yourself, and how you like the pub... Small talk every bartender makes to appease their customers, more or less. Even though it was this basic, you couldn't look away from him - where he moved, your eyes followed. When he smiled, you mimicked. Whenever he was closer than a foot, your heart skipped a beat. He smelled so nice, so earthy, like wood, jasmine and oranges.

"Oh, by the way." - You reminded yourself as he finished the drink, facing away from you to keep it as 'a surprise'. Uh-hm was all you got in response. - "I'm here to meet someone named Vander? Rings a bell?" "I'd assume so. What do ya need of that old bastard, sweetheart?" "I'm here to talk about possible future negotiations between Piltover and Zaun. The council wants to grant this region greater rights in exchange for peace." "You're a diplomat?" - The man stopped, bright pink cocktail umbrella hanging between his fingers. The atmosphere seemed to fade away while he processed the information, his smile disappearing.

"Listen, you have nothing to worry about. I'm here to make sure everything goes smoothly and help as much as I can. Vander isn't in any sort of danger. Sheriff Grayson referred to him as someone who'd be in a position to make demands for the Zaunites." "You're pretty young for a diplomat's what I meant to say, sweetheart. Don't take it the wrong way. One'd assume such a young thing would have other things on her mind." "You know him or not?" - You asked, amused by his explanation. "'s me. Vander, pleasure's on my side."

Oh shit. Oh fuck. So this was Vander. The former 'Hound of the Underground', as Grayson informed you. This beautiful man, this absolute spectacle... Was the guy you'd spend hours and hours with talking about political nonsense? This both excited and worried you. It was a curse in disguise. How were you supposed to even start talking to him? The moment you'd be alone, your mind would fill with very inappropriate fucking thoughts. "Oh, snap." "Haven't heard anything more Piltoverian in a long time. Well... How 'bout you?" "What about me?" "What's your name, sweetheart? Wouldn't mind calling you names, but when we get to business, I wouldn't wanna come across as immature... God forbid rude." - The way his tongue deliberately stretched 'business' between his lips made you swoon, gasping for air in hopes Vander wouldn't notice (he definitely noticed).

"Y/N, my name's Y/N Y/L/N. Pleasure's on my side." "Hey now, that's my line." - With a chuckle, Vander put down a cocktail in front of you. It was dark blue, frothy with crushed ice, decorated by a piece of orange and that pink cocktail umbrella you'd seen earlier. - "Look at the beauty." - Vander smiled, pushing it a bit closer. No idea what he was talking about (whether you or the cocktail), but your heart skipped a beat. Again. - "The best drink I can make. Hope it'll taste good. "How much?" "Hm?" - Vander asked, watching as you pulled out your wallet. "For the drinks. How much?" "Leave it, 's on the house." "No way, cowboy. How - much?" "Take it as compensation for Sevika's tantrum earlier, doll." - Fucking hell, this nickname almost gave you a heart attack. - "If you keep on flatterin' me, ya not payin' a single dime." "Unprofessional. Immature. Rude." - You gritted and passed a few Valors on the bar. - "Take the tip, at least." "'Aight. Can say no to that. If you'd want another drink or anythin' else, just wave at me. I'll be there in no time. Deal, sweetheart?" "What a smooth criminal you are, Vander. Thank you kindly." - As you took both drinks and walked back to your table, you couldn't see the smile freeze on Vander's face as you called him a 'smooth criminal'. Did you know? Had Greyson mentioned his impressive portfolio that still haunted him to that day? The Hound of the Underground. That's how people knew him, why they respected him.

"So, did we find the guy, or..." "Right there. The bartender. That's our guy." "Oh... Wow." - Ezreal leaned his elbow into the chair, eyeing Vander properly. - "Seems decent enough of a man. Expected someone older, though." "He's very nice and very polite." "Heh. Sure. Nice and polite." - Ezreal snickered, looking at you. You really had no fucking clue, did you? About how assertive you were, about how lovely the features of your face were. On the occasions, he and Jayce got you into a tight corner and you got flustered (which happened rarely) and you became a stuttering, annoyed mess, you were one of the most beautiful girls Ezreal had laid eyes on. And no, he wasn't saying it out of chivalry or because you two were best friends - it was because you were best that he pulled his head out of his ass for once and behaved the best he could. Back when you got the letter? Ezreal meant each word.

Collaborating with Vander actually wasn't as bad as you worried it'd be. With each meeting, you'd swoon harder and harder but managed to pull your head out of your ass to focus on the responsibilities at hand. In the beginning, Vander did his best to inform you about how things are and go in Zaun so you'd be accommodated better. Usually, he'd either invite you before he'd open the pub or reserve you a spot at the bar, where you'd talk about points that started coming up over time - like Enforcer oppression, increasing drug usage, and inadequate means for children to reach at least basic education. His points and observations were reasonable and understandable.

When he wouldn't be talking about business with you, as he settled on calling it, your mind would be consumed with him as he rambled about everything and nothing. Sometimes, you wouldn't even listen to him, you'd simply sip on your drink and let his deep voice intoxicate your brain. His smell, God almighty, his fucking smell. Over time, you've become mesmerized with the details. Vander throwing the tea towel over his broad shoulder, polishing the bar, the muscles on his back dancing in unison. How his fingers ruffled his hair. His smile when he greeted patrons and regulars. How he bit on his lower lip when he thought of a response. How he smoothed his beard when you said something out of pocket... So many details. You loved watching him like a stage play, especially when he served other guests. Did he know? He must've known - he'd send you a knowing grin each time your fingers brushed over the document you've been working on. Vander even went as far as figuring out which nickname you liked the most. Seeing as you shrugged and stuttered each time he'd call you a doll, it became his most used word.

Was he this attentive to all the other female guests? You couldn't tell. You liked watching him work, yes, but you weren't listening in on their conversation. Was it a formality, due to occupation, a game or did he mean it when he occasionally flirted with you? Some compliments Vander came up with left you speechless. He was the man to notice subtle wardrobe changes and make-up experimentations, mainly because you dressed differently than 90% of the local population. He'd be the first to comment on phrases 'so Piltoverian it hurt'. When it got late enough at the Last Drop and you'd be tipsy enough, Vander got daring enough to compliment your smile, saying it always 'lit up his entire day'. This man knew how to run his fucking mouth, sending you into spirals each time he'd whip out a compliment.

What he was hesitant about, however, was touching you - in moments when he stopped paying attention, his hand would slip on your shoulder blades as he watched you writing into the document. You never commented on it, you loved it when he touched you - it sent a heat wave through your entire body, making your breath hitch in your throat and push your thighs close together. As soon as he saw you looking at his palm, it would be gone from your back, leaving you craving more.

Benzo became one of your best friends in the Undercity, you had to admit. He had his oddities, but he'd welcome you inside his shop whenever you dropped for a visit. Ekko, the young boy you've met earlier, was introduced to you as his ward. The boy grew to adore you - you'd bring him sweets when you visited Piltover and tell him about how it looks and works up there. Benzo explained that his ward is very good with inventions, a scientist by heart - you'd promised Ekko you'd show him Jayce's workshop sometime in the future. Each time he'd be in Last Drop, whenever you came to have something to eat, a drink, or work with Vander, Benzo'd wave at you over the entire pub and save you a spot on the bar. Even though his business surely had little to nothing to do with legality, you grew fond of him.

That night, you've waited until Vander would close the pub. The place slowly depopulated while Vander flickered most of the lighting, drowning it in darkness. The only remaining light was above your head, shining right into the Blue Lagoon you'd ordered earlier. "And who'd busted your bubble?" - Vander asked quietly, watching as you played around with the cocktail umbrella. No matter what drink you ordered, he ensured you'd always have a cocktail umbrella stuck in. - "Even put some oranges in it, you've seemed to enjoy it the last time." "Just tired, I think, been finishing the document so I can turn it in. Grammar and formatting are a pain in the ass." "Sorry to hear that, doll." - The big guy huffed, sitting on the neighboring stool while patting your shoulder. Joining in, he poured himself a beer. Again, your breath hitched as you enjoyed every second of his body touching yours. - "What was wrong with the last draft? Thought it looked decent 'nough?" "Overlooked some paragraphs and spacing. Council would return it to me the moment they'd notice." "Well, 't least you tried." "Hm." - You sighed, putting your head on the bar.

"Hey, you." - Vander chuckled, his head cocked to the side as he tried keeping eye contact with you. - "Can you smile?" "Why would I do that? I'm suffering." "C'mon, pretty girl. Smile." - He'd whisper, gently caressing your back. The caress made you breathe in shakily, smiling as he asked. - "See? The nite is suddenly much better." "You're such a comedian. Why do I take the bait each time?" "Maybe you like smilin' at someone handsome as me?" - Vander opposed, making you giggle. He was the handsome man you'd met, that much was true.

It wasn't just about being attracted to him at this point, though. There was more than level-surface attraction and crackling chemistry - you liked him. Seriously liked him. As you lay away in your flat, you'd play with your blanket and think about how things could be in a perfect world - Vander would close the inn and come home shortly after midnight, kissing you on the forehead after he'd take off his jacket. That would most certainly wake you up, so you'd join him in the kitchen for a bit before leading him to bed. You usually had to stop yourself, forcefully, from letting the daydream carry on - you'd only imagine stripping him of his clothes when you got desperate enough, jerking off before sleep. It needed to be let out. Vander had to know how you felt about him. To either decline your offer or agree to try pushing the boundaries a bit. You've been tipsy enough to conclude that confrontation was a great fucking idea - you've had enough of watching other women goggling their eyes at him, pushing their breasts together as they'd order. It was bothering to look at his well-trained smile (the smile you've learned to love) as he answered them, winking their way. You liked the guy, you loved spending time with him... And he seemed to be interested as well. To what degree, you had no idea about it, but he surely liked having you around.

"Or maybe..." - It took all of your courage to turn at him, putting your palm on his upper thigh. Vander's fingers stopped caressing the glass, squinted his eyes, and tried deciphering what you've been up to. Your touch felt wonderful and, for the love of God, you smelled so good. "What has gotten into you, doll, hm?" - The man whispered, gently moving strands of your hair out of your face, smiling warmly. Your eyes were open wide, filled with little sparkles as you stared at his face. "I want to kiss you, Vander." - With those words, his motions stopped altogether.

Of course, he thought about kissing you. Multiple times - each time you were sitting at the bar and sent him a smile, to be precise. It would be easy to simply lean over, smooth your cheek, and steal all your thunder. In fact, you couldn't have an idea what you were doing to him, intoxicating his brain with the sweetest scenarios and possibilities. It would be the easiest way of shutting you up whenever Vander got you flustered; he enjoyed when you turned into a stuttering, annoyed cute little mess, though. It was endearing watching you try to get yourself off the sinking boat while digging yourself a deep grave. Vander also thought about much more than just kissing you - he'd seen you naked so many times (inside his head), he'd swear he'd recognize your body amongst other women, even with the lights off. Your strange turns of phrases often made his tummy tingle with butterflies as he laughed, explaining to you that you sounded too Piltoverian. Your expression and widened eyes goggling at him made him feel warm and fuzzy on the inside... You've managed to make the Hound of the Underground soften. Fucking God almighty, your outfits made Vander's heart flutter - it was a mix of everything; sometimes you'd be wearing a fluffy white blouse paired with a brown tar-tar vest and derby trousers, other times you'd appear in a bright-colored dress and paired with, again, a tight vest. Even though you always looked out of place, Vander loved that about you. His eyes never searched for you too long, not to mention you looked like an absolute goddess. The derby trousers did nothing for your buttcheeks. When serving, he'd have to keep himself away from you so he wouldn't slap them. How would you sound if he'd made you squeak? Or if you'd be a whining, meowling mess as he'd hover over you, losing his senses to you? How would his name sound when screamed at the top of your lungs?

No matter how hard Vander had it for you (literally and figuratively), there wasn't a world when it would work for both of you. He'd been a Zaunite gangster back in the day, recently reformed into a full-time father and pub owner. Ah, when talking about fatherhood - you didn't even know he's looking after four fucking kids. You didn't have a clue about Vi, Powder, Mylo and Claggor. How could you? Such a pretty young thing didn't deserve a life like this - bound to one place without the alternative to leave. Vander couldn't leave Zaun. But you could. Each time Vander realized how intelligent you truly were, it would knock the air outta his lungs - if there was anyone with a bright future, it got to be you. You had the entire Runeterra laying at your feed, ready for you to explore every nook and cranny. You had places to be, people to meet, work to do... No way he'd let you throw that away for someone like himself. Compared to you, he'd been significantly older, slower and already set in his tracks - you had a whole life ahead of you.

One kiss couldn't ruin anything, could it? You've been tipsy, ogling each other for the entire night, saying shit you shouldn't really say. He wasn't afraid of rejection - Vander was perceptive enough to recognize bedroom eyes on a woman from a mile away. He was afraid of rejecting you. Now that he knew you, it was impossible to imagine Last Drop without having you around. Benzo was fond of you, Ekko loved you (Benzo admitted that the little boy might be crushing on you a teeny-tiny bit) and most of the locals started treating you as an equal. You... You couldn't disappear out of his life.

He'd hesitated for too long. The grip on his thigh started to weaken as you pulled away, flustered beyond any reason - you were turning away, awkwardly coughing into your sleeve. Everything inside his body froze before he could stop it, pushing your palm back where it was - on his thigh, squeezing it gently. As you turned to face him, he leaped forward, kissing you. It made your head spin, that's how good of a kiss it was. Things you hadn't enough courage to admit out loud, all the desire and tension resulted in teeth clattering, tongues dancing, and lips crashing again... And again... And again. You've kissed like nothing else mattered, slipping off the stools - his knee parted your legs while his palms roamed his sides and lower back, spreading them further apart as he pressed you onto the bar, palms sliding along your curved back. If Vander hadn't the willpower to snap out, you'd likely end up bent over the pool table or the tappers. Thankfully, when he felt your fingers tugging his shirt out of his pants, he stepped away, catching your palm in his.

"I... 'm sorry, doll, I shouldn't have done that, I dunno what's gotten into me." - Vander whispered apologetically, awkwardly picking up the stool you'd knocked to the ground during the kiss. "There's nothing to be sorry about, I asked for it." "Doll, there's everythin' to be sorry 'bout." "What do you mean?" - As he registered the vulnerability in your voice, his eyes snapped to you, still leaning your back into the bar. God, you looked amazing with your lips swollen from the kiss. There wasn't time to admire, you, however -this was a fine line Vander found himself on. One wrong word and you could slip past his fingers, never to be seen again.

"You... You shouldn't even be here this late, sweetheart." "Are you trying to say you don't want me here? That none of this is... Real? Was it a game for you?" - The moment you started doubting this, Vander's finger snapped at you as he shook his head. "That's not what I'm sayin'. You should be in your bed, fallin' asleep next to someone your age, maybe that blonde boy'f yours. Seems to have the hots for you, poor kid. Instead, you're here, spendin' your time with someone like me." "Someone like you?" "I could be your father, Y/N." - Vander hissed. Wow. You couldn't recall the last time he'd use your first name - he had to be worked up real bad. "You'd have to start really early, then." - You chuckled, continuing before he caught another wind. - "You're getting yourself too worked up over nothing. It's... Just a kiss, nothing more - I'll still be your regular. I loved it." - Even though the last sentence was a mere whisper, it made Vander straighten up. The explosion of a guttural warmth inside his chest was insane, almost setting him on fire. Even though it wasn't any concrete confession, one step would lead to another...

"'t felt good tonite, will feel like shit tomorrow morning, doll, you'll see." - Sighing, Vander stepped closer to you, leaning into the bar while taking one of your palms to his, playing with your fingers. - "Whatcha thinkin', doll? A Piltie like you with a Tencher like me? C'mon now, what good would that bring?" - Taking a breath, Vander pushed a stand of your hand behind your ear. "How about you let me decide what I'd like to do and how I feel about kissing you? That okay?" - Sighing, you leaned your forehead into his shoulder and gently hugged his waist with your palms. - "I'll let you know the next time I drop by."

"Okay, lemme say it differently - what would such a pretty little pet like you even do with an old geezer like me? You're not just someone, you've even studied at the Academy - the Undercity ain't somethin' you should be aimin' for, Y/N. When I look at you, I see the future. And a damn bright one at that." - His fingers were ghosting along your jaw, his heart thumping steadily. You knew the tone and look in his eyes - like a kid staring at a toy they wouldn't be able to get in a million years. - "And when you change the world, me and Benzo'll tell everyone about ya - 'Y/N? That's our girl, one of the Zaunites; the one who'd been kind enough to kiss an old fool like me'." "To which I'd say I wished you'd kiss me ever since I've met. You're just... Like a fire and I'm a moth, constantly gravitating towards you. When you're not around, it's like my breathing gets heavier, I'm worrying about where you are, what you're doing, and if you're okay... And when I see you, this warmth spreads through my chest. There's not a day when I wouldn't wanna see you and let you poke at my accent or turns of phrases. Vander, I... I... I should go." - With that, you pushed Vander off and picked up your belongings, putting a few Valors on the bars as you usually did. If you continue running your mouth, you'll start unveiling things you did your best to keep hidden away from Vander. For example, that you loved him.

If you weren't so nervous, you wouldn't miss the mesmerized look Vander gave you, breathlessly staring at you. He knew what you've been trying to say - he was on the same boat. He was just a man in his best years trying to get by, helping his community and people. It was so fucking hard to believe a girl like you liked him for what he was. If you'd say it out loud, he'd believe you. He'd even say it back. Three words - such a short phrase would become his favorite. If you had enough courage to say it, he'd repeat it over and over. Instead, he watched as you packed your things, holding everything together with a last-ditch effort. - "If I keep on going, Vander, I'd probably say things neither of us want to hear. If a kiss made the situation this messy, we wouldn't withstand what's on my mind. I... I'll see you around, I promise."

God. You were wrong. So fucking wrong. You're almost out of the door when you hear Vander calling out your name, making you turn around. He'd been mustering up the strength to say it, but before he could... The courage dissipated as you smiled at him. - "Hm?" The way he stared at you dried your mouth and your knees weakened. If you've ever seen bedroom eyes on anyone, this was it. His eyes darkened, his breath short as he tried to come up with something... Anything. Lust was a double-edged sword, that much you realized. Vander would get on his knees to hear whatever stupid shit you had on your mind if there was a slight possibility you felt the same - if that'd be the case, you'd end up bent over the bar. Drunk fucking, that would be the worst thing you could do. If you'd get down to it, you wanted Vander to be sober. You wanted to be sure it was just him touching you, whispering sweet nothings, moaning at appropriate times; not alcohol. You didn't want it to be remorse either. The moment would be right if Vander hadn't started overthinking and overcomplicating shit. "I'll go now, Vander. Remember... I won't even regret kissing you."

You didn't have the balls to go for a beer for the two following weeks. You avoided The Last Drop as if it were a plague epicenter, not even looking its way when you walked through the Lanes. Benzo caught up on the shift, asking if everything was alright. Since Vander seemingly didn't bother with informing Benzo about what happened, you hadn't either; when you popped by his pawn ship to drop off some sweets for Ekko, Benzo even got the audacity to tell you that: 'Vander misses you, asks for you every nite, girl. Whatever the old bastard had done can't be that bad, can it?' Did Vander even do anything wrong? He hadn't outright rejected you, had he? It almost seemed he'd admit there's more to it than just a kiss. Emotions, perhaps? Well, you've been on a streak of childish behavior and you planned to continue.

No matter how long you worked during the night, Vander plagued your mind. You've missed him, the way he smiled at you, gently caressed you with his looks, and how delicate his tone was when he spoke with you. It was strange to work in silence since you've gotten used to the vivacity of the Last Drop. Your flat suddenly felt like a prison - too small, too dark, and too quiet. Even when Ezreal came over to visit you and sleepover, it didn't brighten up the mood. The boy wasn't stupid when it came to crushes and lovesickness - as soon as he heard you sigh, he'd been onto your ass, trying to lure details outta you. It wasn't a bad idea, actually - you needed your friends to help you solve the conundrum of 'Vander'.

"And... You left after that?" - Ezreal asked, genuinely shocked. You've called for an emergency meeting at Jayce's - all three of you were splattered all over Jayce's sofa, sipping on a beer, eating take-out. "What else was I supposed to do?" "So, you've fallen in love with this amazing Trencher..." - Jayce mumbled through the noodles in his mouth, sitting up. - "And he kissed you like anyone before?" "Yeah, it was... Wow. We've knocked over a few stools, even, but we were both drunk." - You reminded, sighing. "Have you seen how he looks at you?" - Ezreal asked you, having you cock your head towards him dumbfoundedly. - "Every time we're there for a drink, the guy doesn't look at anyone but you. Like there's no other person in the pub, just you."

"Have you heard a word from what I've told you?" "You ran away after he pointed out a few excellent points instead of telling him what's on your mind... And then left him conscience-stricken for two weeks. Without dropping by to tell him you're just confused." - Jayce reiterated. It wasn't like that, was it? You didn't run away without telling - Vander surely knew. Why didn't he comment or answer it in any way? It wasn't just your fault - there were two to blame. "I'm... I wasn't confused." "Don't take this personally, but we've never seen you fall in love with anyone. You fooled around at the Academy - who didn't? But it looks like when it comes to real feelings... You're not too good at conveying them. Lemme guess - you started talking, said something incredibly cheesy, and then rambled, didn't you?" - Ezreal asked, smoothing your shoulder. How did he know? God, these guys knew you better than you could ever know yourself. - "In response, Vander started rambling about the future - about how it couldn't be good for you and stuff. Even though it might've come across as dismissive, Y/N, that man thought about a future by your side. Also, we can't see every thought that goes inside that brain of yours, so it can be confusing to navigate at times. You love him, then? And want to fu..." - Ezreal nibbled on, making you unnerved and flustered. Was he just about to ask you if you wanted to fuck Vander? That casually, like it's nothing? "Yes, Ezreal, yes! I can't think of anything but him, I can't eat, can't sleep..." - You exclaimed, standing up to take a long breath. The duo gave you a run for your money, you had to admit. - "All I want is him. But I don't know how to do it or what to say. That's why we're here."

"Then I don't see a problem here. Do you, Ezreal?" "None, Jayce." "We're on the same page, then." - Jayce smiled, clinking his bottle to Ezreal's before taking a good swing. - "God, these noodles are so good." "If you two don't talk, I swear on Heimerdinger's inventions..." "Vander, from what I've gathered, is an upfront, honest guy..." - Jayce started, having Ezreal nod in confirmation. "... Then it's obvious what you have to do. Just tell him. Which part? I don't know. Just go for it." "That's the best piece of advice you got for me - 'just tell him'? Isn't that what I attempted last time?" "Oh, Y/N, girl." - Ezreal howled, pushing you back to the sofa between Jayce and him, and handing you back your beer. - "This time, you're gonna go straight to the point. No cheesiness, no romance - it'll be a love confession, but you see what I mean, right? Let me phrase it delicately... You'll tell him all about those dirty scenarios inside your head. We guys love hearing stuff like that, it boosts our confidence." "For once, I second everything Ezreal said. You got this, Y/N, look at yourself. Ezreal is mostly right when sensing crushes - if he says Vander's got it bad for you, I'd trust him."

Ezreal didn't leave you on your own, God bless this sweet summer child - he'd made sure you'd really go talking to Vander, even helped you with picking out the outfit. He'd put together something insanely simple, yet elegant - a white lacey dress, a suiting black vest with golden detailing to match your Wellington boots. When enriched with adequate, very subtle golden accessories, and the right hairstyle... "God, Ezreal. When did you plan on letting me know you're a fashionista?" - You wondered, turning around to see every inch of you. You had these pieces for years and never thought enough to piece them together. Your fashion sense wasn't bad, per se, but faded in comparison to Ezreal's. "I've been making fashion statements for some time now, one'd assume you noticed since we hang out all the time." - The boy muttered, sitting on your bed. "I look so good." - Still checking yourself out, you leaned towards the mirror to look at how the golden necklace sits on your neck. "You always did. I just pushed it a step further, that's all." - Making you stand up, Ezreal caught your shoulders and looked you in the eyes. - "What's the plan? Run it by me one last time."

"I'll walk in the Last Drop, looking like a million Valors." "Duh." "Tell Vander I'd like to talk to him... Alone." "Yeah?" "And when we're alone, I'll tell him what I wanna do to him... Which will be so incredibly disgraceful and awkward..." "It'll be disgraceful and awkward if you don't pull yourself together. Be confident, smirk, touch him, smooth his shoulder, bite your lip, wiggle your eyebrows - just don't turn into a flustered mess. Imagine you're in a debating competition if that helps. Show him how serious you are, don't leave a single question unanswered." - Coach Ezreal instructed you, having you nod with fiery passion. While not known for his intelligence prowess, Ezreal was a great leader and an amazing empath. He'd known you much better than you knew yourself, helping you cross bridges you'd deemed impossible. Now, he was doing it again.

"Alright, seems to me you're in the right zone and everything. My job here is done." - The boy grinned, fixing a few strands of hair behind your ear. - "I gotta catch a date for myself." "Who's the poor soul? Do I know 'em?" - You wondered, the Undercity accent rubbing its way in. No wonder, you've been living in Zaun for at least three months by that point. Ezreal didn't point it out, just grinned while picking up his stuff lying around. "Linda from the study department." "Wow!" - You exclaimed, locking your flat. You'd walk Ez out on your way to the Last Drop. - "Why do you sound so down, then? Weren't you pinning against Linda for months?" "Eh... I mean, yeah... The problem is I asked her out at a party, super-drunk, and everything. Don't even remember what I fooled her into believing. Remember that faculty party you didn't come with me because you were too busy ogling at Vander?" "Hey, I'm not taking accountability for that. Jayce was your babysitter for the night." "He, for one, was busy ogling some guy from Heimer's office and didn't make it in time to inform Linda it's not a great idea." - Ezreal grinned, watching as you gasped for air. Ogling a guy from Heimer's office? Damn.

"How come I hadn't heard about this 'till now?" "You were too busy putting that draft together. Even sobbed about it when I slept over last week. Didn't think telling you about Jayce's romantic endeavors would help much." "And... Who's the guy? Do we know him? What's Jayce's type?" - Eyebrows wiggling, you pressed on, making Ezreal chuckle. "No, don't know him, I saw him at the party for the first time. How'd I describe him... Frail and foreign for sure. Don't take it wrong, he's... Strangely handsome, that one. Think it's the accent doing it for our poor old Jayce." "Fuck me." - You snorted, opening the front door. - "Our science bro has it down bad for other scientists. Twist of the century." "I liked Viktor." - Ez mumbled while leading you towards the main parade. - "He's snarky and most likely a genius. Zaunite by heart, strangely perceptive, weirdly confident in the best way... You'd love him." "You think Jayce would ask him on his own?" "Eh, no, not really. I'll start working on setting them up soon." "What would we do without our romance and fashion guru, Mr. Lymere?" - Looking him in the eyes, you smiled while Ezreal caught your hands in his, nodding at you.

"Now, forget all about Talis and his non-existent game... I mean, the guy can flirt, that's for sure, but..." "Not the point, Ez." "Right." - Ezreal nodded some more, clearing his throat. - "When you come tomorrow evening for the play, all I'm going to hear about is how this hunky, handsome guy blew your back out, 'kay?" "Ez!" - It was a squeal as you started to laugh, stepping aside, breaking the moment. - "You gotta stop saying that. I'm not good with... Saying this stuff out loud, you know that." "Good luck, lovely." - The boy leaned in, kissed your cheek, and sent you one of his typical smiles before turning on his heels and leaving. God, you loved Ezreal.

As Coach Ezreal coaxed you into doing, you did your best to walk into the Last Drop like a million Valors (not to mention the intense break you took leaned into the pub's wall, trying to get your shit together). As per usual, the place was lively - people haggling around, playing cards, jukebox playing a nice tune while they drank. Since it was the weekend, Vander wasn't behind the bar alone; Vera and Jakob were his backup for the night. You'd admired how Vander and his part-timers work in unison. Their responsibilities were strictly given, so each of them had their own little universe to keep in check - Vander dealt with the orders, Vera mixed cocktails and prepared snacks and Jakob ensured there were always enough dishes. "Look who we got here! Hey, Y/N!" - Benzo's voice exclaimed so loudly it was heard all over the pub - some locals acknowledged you with a nod or wave, not staring for too long. Benzo, however, was seemingly happy to have his drinking buddy back in business. As you made your way towards the bar, you'd let the guy hug you clumsily before stepping aside.

The bartender hadn't said a word to acknowledge your presence. Hadn't even looked your way, it seemed. Was he hurt, just like Ezreal expected? Was he pissed to see you walk in so casually? Why didn't he reach out, then? You'd bet your money that he knew where you lived - one could never keep a secret while living in the Lanes. It took all your willpower to snap your eyes into Vander's face, waiting for him to do anything, say something so you'd know what you're on. Funnily enough, Vander didn't plan on making it easier for you. At first, you were worried that he'd truly become indifferent. Devil's always in the detail, you reminded yourself, searching for signs of what's going on inside his head. When you started noticing, your heart fluttered in your chest, hot blood rushed into your cheeks. His eyes lingered on your lips, the gulp he'd desperately tried to suppress, the grip tightening around the glasses he polished. He'd held onto them to forcefully his knuckles turned white.

"It's so good to see you, both of you." - With a smile, you turned towards the bar. Vander automatically pulled out your favorite coater (he'd hide it away from other guests, this one was yours specifically), leaning his hands into the desk like a let-down parent. "What can I get you?" - His mumble was quiet, devoid of any emotion. No nicknames, no jokes, no flirting, huh? He'd really have to be pissed off, then. "I'm here on business, actually." - Sending him a sweet smile didn't help either? Damn. - "Could I steal you for a minute or two? Won't be keeping you long and then I'm out of your hair, promise." "Somethin' goin' down up there?" - Benzo asked with worries in his tone. "Nothing I can't take off, Benzo. Just need Vander's expert opinion, that's all. He'll be back before you know it. Shall we?" - With a clap of hands, you sent Vander yet another warm smile. The bartender raised his eyebrows, sighed, and put his tea towel on the bar. Picking up his sandwich, he'd informed Vera about being gone for fifteen minutes (for his break) at tops before vaguely gesturing for you to follow him. Fifteen minutes was all you got, huh? Fuck.

You'd expect him to lead you to his office on the upper floor - Vander didn't deem you worthy enough to sit on his plushy chairs, because he'd open the back pantry for you, opting you to sit on one of the barrels. "Well, start talkin'. We ain't have the whole evenin' - is it about the readin' or somethin'?" - Without an ounce of care, he'd peeled the napkin off his sandwich, chewing on it. "How... Have you been?" "How have I... Thought you wanna talk business, young lady." - Vander reiterated mockingly, looking away from you; his eyes had been stuck on your lacy dress, drowning in the sight of your breasts pushed together to form a delightful cleavage - it wasn't showing too much, but it definitely showed more than usual. Your breasts looked so... He'd been this close to reaching towards you, undoing the vest so he could squeeze them and nuzzle his head to your chest. Fuck, you looked so absurdly alluring and tantalizing Vander couldn't stand to look at you. He was mad at you just an hour ago - he couldn't give in that easily. He'd spent the last two weeks being absolutely miserable - your seat remained empty night after night, your coater hidden behind the tappers. Even though he'd known you weren't coming, he'd always ushered customers from sitting on your stool - his mind often going back to your carefree smile, your elbow supporting your head as you watched every move Vander made, reminding him of the cute expression on your face. Even the kids caught onto his mood swings - Vi laid into him regarding what, to quote her, 'Fucking busted his bubble?'

It took you a lot of courage to pick yourself off the barrel, stepping closer to him. Did you look seductive? You didn't feel like it at fucking all. Vander freezing like a deer in the headlights hinted that you were on the right track.

"I'm here to finish the conversation we started last week." "Not this again..." - Vander countered and started picking himself up to leave - it was a surprise when you pushed him back on his ass, keeping one hand on his shoulder, soothing his jaw with your other one. "I don't think I made myself clear enough." "Oh, trust me, darlin', you've said plenty..." "Yeah? Then you're gonna listen to it all again, I guess. Poor you." - The sandwich was long forgotten, lying on one of the shelves as you cocked your head to the side, sending Vander the calmest, sweetest smile you could muster. Holy shit, you realized, Ezreal's advice worked. Vander couldn't look away from you as you leaned your knee between his, planting your thumb on his lower lip to enthuse you'd love to kiss him again. Feeling the softness of his mouth made you lick your lips.

"I hoped you'd be smarter than this, sweetheart." - Vander whispered, finally giving in to your touch - you could feel his fingers creeping up your calves, gently lifting your skirt up, traveling up to your thighs. - "I ain't good news for a young thing like you. You'll get bored soon 'nough, leavin' me behind. Won't even remember me a few years from now... Thought you not showin' up was a good sign." "Good sign?" "That you'd understood what I tried to say and decided it would be best not to fool around with someone like me." "I thought about this a lot over the last week - about you, me, and what I tried to do. I was drunk, we both were, and words didn't come across as I'd like 'em to." - Lifting his chin up, you started playing with his hair. - "No matter how much you hate hearing this, I'm really into you. I think I'm in love with you."

Everything stopped for a second - his grip on your thighs tightened as he brought you closer, staring at you with pure adoration. His expression didn't reflect all the love and happiness behind his eyes, but the fireworks going off told you more than you needed to know. He'd felt the same, to one degree or another. There wasn't any rush to say it back - when he opened his mouth to talk, your finger stopped him as you pressed it there. Cheekily, Vander planted a kiss on it, waiting for what you wanted to say. Rest assured, your words almost gave him a heart attack.

"Now - stop fucking telling me how I'll feel or what I'll do in a few years. I want to be in the now with you and you're making it pretty fucking difficult. How about you just forget about everything for one night and show me how you feel about me? I don't care if this isn't a good long-term decision or whatever you're about to say - you're what I want most now. And even if I'd become a real diplomat one day... Vander, we're smart. We can figure it out. Stay in the moment, here with me." - Stepping in, you could feel your thighs bump into his abdomen - still holding his head in your palm, you were standing directly above him. Fucking hell, he was even more handsome up close. You loved every small wrinkle and crevice of his skin, an almost invisible scar on his lower lip, prominent cheekbones, and hair so soft you wanted to simply tug on it. His fingers on your thighs started to move up and down, caressing your smooth skin - even that alone was enough to make you meowl softly.

"So, therefore, I propose we drop the act and focus on letting whatever this is blossom. Fuck, you have no idea about how many times I'd imagined kissing you, Vander, how I melt each time you smile or give me a cheesy compliment. No other man in my life makes my hands shake just by standing beside me. You have no idea how many times I've dreamt you'd be in my bed, taking my clothes off and eating me out... And all the things I'd like to do to you, shit." - You continued mumbling erratically, not really paying attention to what was leaving your mouth - Vander seemed mesmerized either way as he bent your knees carefully, lifting you up to sit his lap (given he was sitting on a barrel, that shit must've been uncomfortable as fuck). Hearing you curse for the first time was an out-of-world experience for him, especially when accompanied by quiet hisses and subtle moans. Every word leaving your lips was dipped in honey, making him gasp for air helplessly - if he'd like to, he was sure you'd be willing to undress right there and then. Your knees fit around his waist as if he was made for you, his hardening dick pressing onto your thigh the moment you wiggled a bit. Feeling him made you gulp and lick your lips as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, playing with his hair.

"I don't know what you're so scared of? I'm here, you're here... Let's just... See what happens." "Ain't this an abuse of power, miss diplomat?" - He whispered, making you giggle. "Would be if you didn't want to fuck me as desperately as I wanna fuck you." - You whispered, stealing a quick peck off his lips. This broke the dam, causing all the feelings and emotions to flood out. "You - have - no - idea - what - ya - doin' - to - me - doll." - After each word, Vander stole a kiss from your lips, his palms lifting your ass, making you rock on his waist, grinding on his dick with a raisin intensity. Each movement made you moan breathily, sending chills down your spine. and started grinding your groin against his, earning a breathy moan from you. - "Seein' you talk to men makes my blood boil 'cause I want to be the only one you give that pretty smile to. I wanna be the one wakin' up next to you, caressin' your skin, help you with showerin' your back, and see all the newest clothes and underwear you bring home... Mainly the latter, 'f course. I just... I just wanna be your man." "Then show me, baby." - You whispered quietly, pulling him for a proper kiss, grinding against his lap in a steady rhythm. Warmth was spreading through your tummy, making it tighten each time your clit grazed the fabric of his trousers.

"I'd love nothin' else, doll..." - The man hummed, holding your chin between his fingers. Dear lord almighty, you looked more sensual than any woman he'd met before you - you seemed to be intoxicated from his kisses and words, your face burning up as he dragged his finger along your cheek. Each time you rocked your hips over his cock, your entire body shivered, eyelids fluttering. Realizing it was him making you meowl, that he kissed you so passionately that your lips were swollen was the hottest turn-on he'd ever felt. - "But my break is almost over. No way I'd undress you in this damn pantry for our first time, you deserve somethin' much better. You free tonight?" "Hmhm? What do you have on mind?" "Come pick me up after I close down. I'll make us dinner. We'll see where the things go from there, yeah?" "Can't wait, handsome."

After Vander watched you leave the Last Drop with a shy smile, his eyes glued to your ass, he couldn't stop grinning. Five hours remaining until your randez-vouz... A whole fucking eternity. The tent in his pants was unquenchable, no matter how many hairy men Vander attempted to imagine. This tween behavior made Benzo grin - he didn't need to ask what you've been up to, he already knew. Watching Vander's blush and his constant throat clearing was enough of a show in itself. Business his ass; Benzo and Vera actually bet if you'd have sex right then and there or if you'd wait for a better moment. Vera was now 20 Valors richer.

"Could you take over the tappers for a minute?" - Vander asked, looking at the drink she was just finishing - you'd like it. Filled with pieces of chopped fruit, a very refreshing mix of spirits and lemonade. - "Gotta arrange somethin' real quick." "You got it, V." - Vera called over her shoulder, showing Vander a thumbs-up. Leaving his tea towel on the bar, Vander turned on his heels to walk into the basement - this was his kids' designed hangout spot when they didn't feel like exploring Lanes. And since Vi was under house arrest, they've been lounging around it all weekend.

"Oh, hey." - Claggor was first to acknowledge him - he and small Powder were playing tick-tack-toe while Mylo read in the corner, only sending him a nod. Vi was sitting on the couch with her palms under her head, staring at the ceiling. "What's up, old man?" - Vi muttered, sitting up. She had the most authority over the group, so she needed to be pressured the most - getting along with her meant getting along with the rest of the kids. At this point, Vi wasn't even mad, unlike a month back - now, she spent most of the time thinking about how to avoid Vander's attention next time, ticking off the few remaining days on her hands.

"I wanna make a deal with ya, kids." - Vander started, leaning his ass into the counter below him. Everyone was paying attention now, their head turned directly at him. The truth was - he needed the flat empty if he wanted to host a dinner for you and fuck senseless after... Which would be difficult with four fucking kids around. - "I'll let Vi off the hook sooner if you'd sleep here, need ya outta my hair. Just for tonight." "Why?" - Powder wondered, her enormous blue eyes ogling at Vander. It was time to blush, sweat, and truly clear his throat. All the kids stared at him before Mylo exclaimed 'Aaaaah', laughing at Vander's busted ass. "... Our old man got himself a date." - The boy explained - before he managed to utter another word, Vi gripped her palm around his shoulder. "That's all she needs to know." - The girl ended topically, grinning at Vander. - "That's it? No buts or ifs if we stay the night here? That's all you askin'? You'll just... Let me off the hook?" "Depends, have you learned your lesson?" "Of course I did." - The girl answered, emphasis on the word 'did'. Yeah, right, and Vander was the newest fucking councilor. The kids started nodding frantically, making the old man chuckle. - "We all did. Last month had been very educational for all four of us." "Then you're off the hook. Of course, in case of an emergency, just come ask for help - I'll be here for you..." - Vander informed swiftly, watching as Vi sat next to him with an angelic smile - from his experience, she was about to ask the stupidest fucking question he'd heard all day. "Is it the pretty one? That one sitting on the bar all the time and staring at you as if she'd never seen a man? She has it bad for you." "You're begging for another month of house arrest." "Hadn't even said anything!" - The girl laughed, taking Vander's answer as a yes.

Striking a deal with the kids was a double-edged sword - they might be grateful for now, but jokes and innuendos were coming Vander's way, for sure. He needed to embrace all parts of fatherhood - the good parts, like Powder's drawings on the fridge or Vi's occasional hugs as well as the bad parts, consisting, for example, of the kids consistently finding sex and relationships cringe and disgusting. "Can I ask a favor from ya?" - Vander stopped in the doorframe, looking at the kids. - "Would you clean up the mess you've made yesterday?" "Oh, yeah... The pancakes..." - Powder sighed, remembering all the dirty dishes and ingredients plastered all over the kitchen sink. That might've been her job. Vander (while being very grateful for the breakfast) asked the kids if a bomb had gone off in the kitchen. "No problem, big guy, you got it!" - Vi exclaimed, her eyes shining as she just found another angle for a stupid statement. - "Everything will be good as new for your big night, on my honor." "You're on some mighty thin ice here." - The old man mumbled, but couldn't hide the grin appearing on his face.

Waiting for the Last Drop to close was endless, you'd swear - you'd change into outfit after outfit, trying out different underwear sets and even switching your hairstyle three times. You'd decided on something more decadent and less showy - while the afternoon visit was to seduce Vander, now you wanted to be more you - while being less fashionista, your outfits were still cute. Even walking into the establishment was nerve-wracking - just as you slipped through the door, Vera was leaving for the night after cleaning the whole place up. Jakob was long gone after that point - his mom was sick, so he'd leave around ten, leaving the two to deal with the locals and patrons.

"Hey." - You waved, smiling at the guy shyly. Vander was just polishing the tappers - you loved how his hand moved steadily, showing all the veins on his forearm. "Hey, you. Lookin' cute." - The man didn't waste any time making you fluster as you put your bag on your stool - you'd packed a few spare things to change into. "How was the night?" - Without hesitation, you'd walk behind the bar and roll up your sleeves to sort the different glass types Vander had lying around. "C'mhere. Forgotten somethin', silly." - Without notifying you, the man hugged your hips and pulled you in for a kiss - no matter your wet hands. Giggling, you didn't hesitate to kiss him back, gently smoothing his chin.

"Missed ya here, sweetheart." "I'm here now... And I'm starving." "Let me finish up so I can cook you somethin' delicious, doll." - Gently slapping your ass (melting at your surprised squeal), the man started finishing the very last chores feverishly. "I'm here to help - after I finish the glasses, what's on the agenda?" "Nothin' for you. I'd like some help in the kitchen, though." "Got it. Well..." - Smiling at him, you'd slap his ass back. It was a homely gesture you enjoyed, honestly. Something about slapping ass and watching his eyes shine as he glared at you made your heart flutter - getting another kiss helped too.

Vander's flat was on the top floor of the Last Drop - it was spacious, but felt crowded at the same time, for an inexplicable reason. There was a lot of stuff. Even though it was tidy, you got a chaotic vibe from the place... That meant you wouldn't like it, however. The design was incongruous, as you'd expected from a bachelor's fault - the pieces of furniture didn't match at all (in case they did, it was only vague), and the decoration was lacking, but he'd everything he needed. The flat smelled nice, unlike the rest of Zaun - like wood, oranges, jasmine, and his musk... It smelled like him.

"Welcome to my little kingdom." "Mhm, I like it here... A lot. Feels quite like home." - Your words made him smile even more widely than before - walking to you, he gently held your head in his palms before lowering his, kissing you with a happy hum. It was a sweet, delicate romantic kiss; his lips gently brushed yours, his palms slowly traveling onto your shoulders, copying the curve of your back and settling on your ass, bringing you impossibly close. "Let's get cookin' before you make me lose my damn mind, doll." - With a last caress of your jaw, he'd walk into a spacious kitchen/dining room. The table was impressively large - enough to host at least seven people. That was where you noticed it for sure - a lonely crayon forgotten under the table and children's drawings on the pantry door. Observing them, you nodded to yourself, putting your bag onto one of the chairs.

"There are... Nice." - You muttered, pointing at them. His expression froze for a second before he joined you in observing the masterpieces. "Mhm. I like 'em a lot. Always make my day." "Who gave them to you?" - With the most innocent expression you could muster, you pressed on with the interrogation. Vander... Wasn't taken, was he? He'd tell you if he was, right? Where would be his wife and presumed children - would he just tell them to leave the flat until he deals with his booty call? Surely not.

"Well, yannow, I help around the community. A lot of kids out here, a lot of excited painters." "Uh-huh." - The confusion and suspicion in your voice was almost tangible. There was one theory you could test out. - "Could I use the bathroom real quick?" "Suit yourself, doll. The first door on the left. Call out if you need anythin'." "I'll be right back." - Kissing his shoulder to divert his attention a bit, you walked inside the small bathroom - it wasn't anything regal, but it fulfilled its purpose. Turning on the basin to cause distraction, you started searching for proof of feminine presence - make-up, perfume, comb... Anything. The only thing you found, however, was a pink hairband forgotten next to the shower. A girl's hairband, you realized - could he be a widower? That would be fine too, you'd even understand why he hadn't mentioned it until then. Well, in that case, it would be better not to pressure him - he'll tell you on his own.

"Everythin' alright?" - He'd ask as soon as he noticed you lurking around the kitchen. Letting your eyes drown in the sight of a homey, domestic Vander was a heavenly sight. He'd taken off his jacket and worked on cutting some vegetables. "Everything alright. What can I help with?" "The meat." Cooking together was fun. You'd open a bottle of wine, chatting as you prepared the meal - Vander asked about details he hadn't learned yet, and you asked about his past, favorite pastime, and hobbies. As per usual, he'd been an open book, answering everything right away and with honesty - this guy could be married, no way in a million years. When a comfortable silence settled between you, you just wait for the meal to be ready - you've decided to settle on a small, very old kitchen island while waiting for Vander to finish peeling and roasting the potatoes.

"Whatcha grinnin' at, you pretty little thing?" "Just watching the most beautiful man I've met, 's all." "Look at her." - Approaching you, the man was purring with happiness. As he approached the edge of the island, your legs opened themselves to hook around his waist, bringing him closer. - "The accent's catchin' 'n everythin'." "Did to impress the guy I like." "Hope he's handsome and treats you right." "You have no idea." - Holding him in place with your palm, you put the glass down and closed off the distance, kissing him slowly. Passion built up with each little movement - he'd hold you impossibly close, his hands roaming your body freely, even taking the vest you've been wearing. Hip lips traveled from your lips to your neck, kissing a small trail below the collar of your blouse as he worked on the buttons. If you weren't starving, you'd let him undress you right there, on the fucking kitchen island... Ruining the atmosphere, your stomach started growling. The moment was gone in an instant, having you both laugh quietly.

"I'm sorry." - You laughed as he hugged you. This time, you let your hands roam around his broad back and shoulders, scratching it with your fingers. "Nothin' to be sorry 'bout. I promised you dinner and I intend to keep the promise." "You bet. Couldn't wait for what you have in store." "... If you provide the desert, that is." - The tone of his voice mesmerized you, having you ogling at him. Fucking hell, he looked so hot - looking at you with his eyes darkened with lust, his thumb playing with your lower lip. Wiggling your hips around, you could feel what was the reason for this sudden change of mood. His dick was deliciously outlined, almost begging to be pulled out and sucked, hitting the back of your throat. "I can give you a little taste." - With an innocent smile, your palm slowly caressed his lower abdomen, slipping down between his legs. Even the thought of having his dick on your palm made you hot and bothered, let alone imagine him finally fucking you after all this time. Sure, you've had sex before, but you've been this down bad and horny for anyone. Imagining him naked made you shuttered, his warmth made goosebumps rise on your skin - as if he knew what pressure to apply, how to apply it, and for how long... Vander was perfect. Fucking perfect. Just when you brushed the tip, Vander's palm tugged on yours.

"Dinner first, doll." - Pushing himself between your legs, he couldn't resist pulling you for one last kiss. - "You'll have all night for showin' me what a good fuckin' girl you are." "Okay, baby." "Good. I ain't plannin' on lettin' you leave until the mornin'." - With a last kiss on your temple, Vander walked back to the stove to check on the food. It smelled delicious. So much so that your stomach grumbled again.

The dinner was delicious, you had to admit. The man knew his cooking and he wasn't shying away from showing you heaven by overstimulating the everliving shit out of your taste buds. Vander even brought a bottle of wine from Last Drop's exclusive displays to amp it up. Having a man working in gastronomy spoiling you rotten had its benefits, you must admit. The conversation was... Mundane. You'd suspect the rising tension would've made it harder to make small talk. Still, it didn't change much except the hunger behind Vander's eyes - he hadn't seen you or talked to you properly in the last two weeks, of course, he wanted to hear what you've been up to, how locals treated you and if there's anything he can do to help.

You've been the one to do the dishes, despite Vander's protests - he was ordered to sit down and relax for a bit; he'd been on a long shift and cooked for you, no way you wouldn't return the hospitality. Other than fucking him senseless, that was. "Lord almighty." - It was a mere whisper, almost too quiet for you to notice. While drying your hands, you'd turned your head to Vander to send him a smile - his expression made you freeze in one place. His voice was husky as he stared at you, looking you up and down as if he hadn't seen a prettier woman before. His elbow leaned to the back of his chair, his tongue slowly traveling on his lips as he enjoyed the view - your hair let down, blouse half unbuttoned, tar trousers perfectly hugging your curves. Domestic behavior was one of his weaknesses.

The stare sucked the air out of your lungs, the smile disappearing. He'd been staring at you as if he was preparing to devour you alive, like a wolf preparing for the last blow. You've never felt like prey... Not in a good way. Daring to take it a step further, you unbuttoned the vest, letting it slip off your shoulders. The man didn't tear his eyes off you - it was hard to even blink, let alone move. Carefully, your fingers push under the blouse, showing off more and more of your skin. As you teased to show him your breasts, his response was a playful scoff. Turning away from him, you slipped the piece of clothing over your head; the see-through fabric left little to the imagination anyway, but finally looking at the laces of your bra left Vander biting his lip.

"Enjoying the show, big guy?" "You have no idea, doll." "How about you show me, then?" "Seems you're havin' fun on your own, don't lemme slow you down." "Could use a spare pair of hands." "Keep goin' and I'll think 'bout it."

Stripping for someone's enjoyment was new for you, but it was... Fun. You'd suspect you'd feel dumb, maybe silly; seeing how he palmed his hardening dick over his pants while watching each move you made gave you confidence. So much of it, in fact, that you slowly slipped the pants off your hips, your boots following soon after. Vander's eyes were glued to how you palmed your breast, playing with the hems of your panties. "Still want to only watch?" "Do you realize how mesmerizing you look, darlin'?" - With that, your fingers finally slipped under the fabric - your other palm grabbed on the kitchen unit so you could ache your back, letting out a lewd moan. - "Keep goin', doll, show me how you like it."

Fulfilling the wish, your fingers drew delicate circles around you, gathering all the wetness leaking out of you. You hadn't been this wet for anyone before Vander. Soon, you stopped caring if he was even watching you - you started to slip your fingers in and out, playing with yourself just as you enjoyed it. It was when your breathing got heavier and your knees started giving out when he finally walked over to you. Immediately, your forehead found its way to his shoulder, your fingers grabbing his forearm forcefully enough to leave dents. Helping you with getting off, he carefully pushed the tiny lacy panties aside (Vander wanted to keep them intact mainly because he suspected this piece of clothing would bring him on his knees anytime you'd show it to him). His fingers were much thicker than yours, making you moan in sensation as he carefully pushed them inside you, curling them up ever so slightly.

"Keep goin' for me, pretty girl, I wanna hear you moan." "F-fuck, Vander." - As he requested, so you provided, panting heavily between meowls and lewd moans leaving your mouth. - "You can add one more and go faster, please." While doing as you asked, he also slipped one of the straps off your shoulder, letting your breast bounce out of the bra. Carefully nibbling on your nipple, he'd pushed his knee between your legs to support you. With each second, your moves started becoming erratic as you ground against his hand, trying to match his palm's thrusts. "Shit, I think... I'm about to..." - Throwing your head backward, his lips found yours in a rough, passionate kiss. "Let go for me, c'mon, good girl." - His husky voice in your ears defused the bomb building inside your abdomen, letting you sink into his fingers in one last stretch. The orgasm felt surreal - his smell intoxicated your brain, your ears started ringing from the blood rushing inside your veins and your mouth produced the most erotic sounds it ever has.

"Holy shit, that was nice." - You admitted, gripping his shirt to lower him down for a proper kiss. "I want to hear this more often, sweetheart." - Vander chuckled, licking his fingers clean while staring you in the eyes. This view had you biting on your lip, kissing him once more just to feel his and your tastes mixed. This alone made you smirk. - "Can't believe how lucky I am to have you here. I imagined this so many times..." "Let me take care of you, big guy." - Leaving all the clothes in a discarded mess on the kitchen floor, your palm tugged on his palm to lead him inside the bedroom.

It was a bit messy, surely seen better days, but it felt very homey - his bed was unmade, clothes that he discarded in a rush were thrown over the chair and a collection of various books and papers gathered on the table. You could notice various framed pictures hanging on the wall but didn't go as far as to check them out. The bed seemed sturdy, excessive wooden frame resting at the mint green wall. You liked it. Even before you asked the first question, his lips crushed to yours, forcing you to back until your knees hit the edge of the mattress. While his hands started pulling his t-shirt off his body, you didn't waste any time unbuckling his belt, your lips kissing a wet trail on the skin he uncovered for you.

He'd been in better shape than you imagined - Vander wasn't the type to have his muscles flexing or rocking a six-pack, but he was slender with just the right amount of chubbiness sprinkled on top of it. Dad bod in its finest form, that's how Ezreal described it to you. You loved the curly hair on his chest; it wasn't too dense, just enough to look ridiculously hot. His happy trail below the belly button was very tasteful, making you moan breathily. Your fingers started to shake as you finally pushed his trousers down, putting your palms on his hips and taking a moment to simply adore him.

Vander was the most beautiful man you came across, there was doubt in your mind - you loved his fucking body. His palms were much larger in comparison to yours, also filled with small calluses due to his occupation, but the rest of his skin was smooth and warm. His stature was a sight to behold - broad shoulders, wide chest, and waist that simply begged to be puzzled between your thighs. Just by looking at the outline of his dick, you knew it was going to be a nice ride - its length was perfect for you, the only thing you were worrying about was how thick it appeared to be. "What's the frown for, doll?" - His voice broke you out of your thoughts, his thumb playing with your lower lip. "Never had someone so wide." - Your words made your pussy contract delightfully, already aching to feel him filling you to the brim. "I'm a handy guy, doll, I'm sure you can take it if I help you. But you gave me a promise, remember?" "Desert?" "Lay down for me, sweetheart, c'mon." - With a quick, skillful move, the bra slid off your shoulders, leaving you fully naked. And yet, you've never felt sexier as you laid down, letting him prop your back up with a pillow while getting on his knees. - "Look at the view, doll." -Vander murmured, pecking both your inner thighs. His smirk was screaming danger, but so fucking good-looking. You've been so aroused that the surrounding air felt cold on your core. - "Must be nicest I had in years. You're even wetter than before doll, God." - With a murmur, he'd kiss the sweet spot right above your clit, sliding his nose through your folds tantalizingly slow. - "You smell and taste so fucking good."

Then, he dived right in, taking you in his mouth with careful, slow, and precise movements - his tongue copied lazy circles around your throbbing bundle of nerves, and his palms and shoulders kept your legs spread wide open, no matter how many times you tried pushing them together. It could be felt he's skilled in eating out - even though he couldn't know what you liked, he started slow and looked at how you reacted, being perceptive enough to repeat the movements you seemed to enjoy and avoid those that made you frown. It didn't take him long to make you a whimpering, whiney mess - especially after his mouth dipped down to catch every bit of your arousal, licking you clean - his watery eyes were piercing through yours, watching as your breasts moved with each breath you took. When he pushed two fingers in once more, a long and needy moan filled his bedroom. That was when you broke off the eye contact and draped the sheets, concentrating on the heat slowly building in your abdomen, your toes curling against your will. His tempo was slow, playful... Vander was definitely taking his time with you.

"'s this what you imagined, doll? Havin' me on my knees, goin' insane over how you taste and sound?" - The man murmured into the skin on your thigh, sending light vibrations through your pussy as he chuckled upon listening to how you desperately tried putting a sensical sentence together. You failed miserably. As you stumbled on your words, his fingers sped up until you squirmed with pleasure, tightening the grip around his shoulders. - "With I could stay here forever, eatin' this pretty little cunt 'til my name's the only thing you remember. Such a pretty fuckin' little girl." "Vander, please, I need you." - With all the will remaining inside you, you managed to pick yourself up on your elbows, tugging on his hair. - "Please, baby, I need you so fucking much. Your tongue on me, your dick balls deep inside me, whatever you'd like... Just don't fucking stop." "Never, doll." - His mouth assaulted your sex with precision, devouring you like there was no tomorrow, even pushing his face further into you while his fingers worked wonders inside you. Your fingers tangled inside his hair, ensuring he wouldn't move an inch. The movements of his tongue became brutal the more your pelvis rode his face as you started chasing your release. He mumbled something, but you never got to know what it was - the vibrations were enough to send you over the edge, making your body tense up and thighs squeeze his head impossibly close to your clit as he continued sucking on it, riding you out of your high.

When your legs spread again, he gasped for air with a large smile, his beard glistening with your arousal. Fuck. Having him marked like that was turning you on. His fingers inside you didn't stop moving yet, enjoying the way your walls squeezed them. He enjoyed how you squirmed each time his thumb gently caressed your oversensitive bundle of nerves. "All good, doll?" "No one had... Jesus, hmpf... How... How are you so good at this?" "Just wanna see my girl happy, 's all. Love seein' your face like this." - Still working wonders between your legs, Vander picked himself off the floor to kiss you. Gently, he pressed in another finger, stretching you even more. But by Gods, it felt so good. - "We're there, baby girl."

Not breaking the kiss, his fingers slipped out of your slit, helping you to climb higher on the bed. Once again, you propped your pelvis up with a pillow, sinking your head into another. Vander caressed your cheek and kissed you before teasingly running his dick through your folds - you were still slippery enough thanks to the mix of his saliva and your arousal, so there wasn't a need for lubricating. His precum leaking out of the tip of his cock made it simpler. Still kissing you, he started teasing you cradling his pelvis back and forth with his dick aligned with your entrance, as if it was to slip any moment now; his other arm propped on the bedframe. "Ready, doll?" "Whenever you are." "Attagirl."

As soon as the tip of his cock slipped inside you, a hurtful hiss crossed your lips - his mouth was instantaneously back on yours, kissing you gently, the palm which was guiding his cock minutes later entangled with yours. Even though Vander did his best to loosen you up, he was still wide. The width made you gasp for air between kisses, each inch filling you like anything before. It didn't hurt, it was just a bit uncomfortable until you got used to the sensation. Your eyes sliding across his face and mouth wide open, you started enjoying the feeling of fullness, especially seeing the ecstatic, awed expression on his face. "Almost there, doll, almost there. You're takin' it so good." "It feels so good, baby. I love feelin' your dick inside me." - As you traced your fingers on his face, you could feel him throbbing upon your words. The sensation made you move against his body, letting the rest of the dick slip inside in one swift motion. - "Holy shit, fuck, fuck, fuck." "You look so fuckin' mesmerizing, takin' my dick like that." - His pelvis started moving carefully, sloppily slipping in and out of you. The sounds were so erotic, so perfect, turning you on even more.

When you felt like you could take it, you started to meet his thrusts halfway, making you both groan in pleasure. Your knees circle around his waist, pulling him deeper inside you - as he did his best to make love to you, his thrusts were playful, slow, and careful, making sure you're getting the most out of it. Vander was also making sure you'll be ready for when he'll start mercilessly fucking you like there's no tomorrow. "Mhmh, you feel so fucking good, Vander." "Love it when you say my name like this." "Vander..." - You moaned, feeling as his pace started picking up, his thrusts becoming more precise. - "God, Vander, Vander, Vander." "You'll be the death of me, fuck."

Before you grasped it, the headboard started banging into the wall as the bed creaked under the brutal tempo Vander had set - you didn't attempt to shush your screams and moans as you dragged your nails down his back, aching your back until your breasts met his chest. Both of you were sweaty and aching in the best way possible, sloppily kissing anytime you could. "I won't last for much longer, doll." - His voice was hoarse as he stared at your tits bouncing around, every semblance of sense erased from his mind. All Vander knew was how perfect you felt tightening around him, that this pussy must've been hand-made for him and him only, and that your moans were the most musical sounds he'd heard until that day. "Cum for me, big guy." "Where... Shit." - Vander sat up, putting his forearm under your back to keep you in position. This new sensation made you squirm, digging your nails deep into his forearm. He'd been even wider from this angle, filling you up better than before. - "Where do you want me, doll?" "Anywhere you want, Vander."

This was Vander's last stretch. His name falling off your lips in such a lewd manner fried his circuits, having him bury his dick deep inside you with one last thrust. Out of breath, Vander collapsed on your chest, listening to your fast heartbeat. Your fingers started playing with his hair and caressing his sweaty back, feeling the warmth spreading deep within you. Everything felt perfect. "You know how you said... You loved me?" "... Also said you don't have to say it back, Vander." "What if I'd like to, doll?" "... Then I'd be the happiest girl in the Lanes." "I love you." - The man murmured, picking his head up to look you in your eyes. The words made you smile widely as you held his pace in your arms, giggling. His softening member was still inside you, but neither of you seemed to be in the rush to pull it out.

"That's the fucking talking, big guy." "It ain't, on my honor. You're the best girl I've ever met. If you won't mind, I'd love to make you mine." "Then repeat it..." "I love you, doll." "Again." "I love you." "... One more time." "I love you, Y/N." "I love you too, Vander." - Cracking a smile, you let the man kiss you, losing yourself in his warm bear hug and embrace. Moments after, he finally picked himself up, walking to the bathroom to bring you a warm towel. Letting you clean yourself up, he disappeared into the kitchen to make you tea and pick up all your clothes scattered over the floor.

The night, just as he promised, was endless - he'd taken you from more positions, caressing your body with the utmost care, as if you were a goddess he wished to worship. You did your best to project his behavior, but you've been too lost in it all - his lips, warm skin, arms wrapped around each time part of your body, his groans in your ear, his beard scratching your lips anytime you kissed... It was around seven in the morning when you finally picked yourself up, pushing his shirt over your head. "Want something from the kitchen, big guy?" "All I want is you back as soon as you can." "Bet your ass..." - Before you could finish the joke, someone barged into the room, making you scream in surprise. You were moaning Vander's name just a few minutes back - who the fuck was this?

Looking at the incoming person, you've known the girl. You've already seen her serving in Vander's - the same violet hair, deadpan on her face as she looked at Vander covering himself with his sheets. "What the..." - You asked, looking at her. The girl, seemingly, ignored you. "... She did it again. I need your help, old man." "What? Who did what? Who are you? Vander?" - You asked with confusion, looking from Vander to the girl and back. "Oh, hi." - Suddenly, the trouble was forgotten as she leaned her shoulder into the doorframe, smiling at you cockily. - "Fancy seeing you here. Looking good." "Hi?" "What did Powder do this time?" - Vander sighed, bringing Vi's attention back to him. To hide the embarrassment, Vander massaged his face with a long sigh.

"We wanted to prepare some breakfast for you guys, so naturally, the stove's on fire." - The girl explained, but didn't seem to be in a rush to stop the ongoing apocalypse in the kitchen - now that you concentrated on it, you could hear distressed squeals and multiple people arguing, pans clinking on the metal - you could also see the smoke rolling out of the kitchen. The flat smelled hellish, making your eyes swell in tears from the subtle itching. "Cover the pan with a pot lid - it'll put out the flames. I'll be right over." "Hope you'll swing by too. Powder can't wait to meet you." - The girl picked herself off the doorframe, winking at you before closing the door.

"What the fuck was that?" - You asked, looking at Vander with disbelief. Who was she? Was she his daughter? Who are the other kids? You had your suspicions, yes, but this freaked you out more than you expected. You expected one, two kids at best - according to the ruckus, there were more people than that, though. "Listen, if you want to leave now, doll, I understand... I..." "Are these your kids?" "Sorta?" "Sort of? How can you 'sort of' have kids? "Adopted 'em little nuisances after the riots last year. None of 'em had a home to go back to - felt responsible for 'em. Listen, as I said, no one's holdin' you here. You must be furious..." "Fucking confused is what I am. Why didn't you tell me earlier?" "Wasn't confident 'nough if I'll even be what ya want without knowing I have four kids on my back." The vulnerable expression on his face made you soften up. Four kids was a lot, yes - his actions, however, were honorable. Where would they end up if Vander didn't step up, giving them a home and a loving fatherly embrace? The longer you stared at Vander, the more motivated you were to step out of the door confidently, sharing this awkward morning with all five of them, and taking everything it could give you. You... Wanted to meet them. You wished to know every possible side of Vander and share all the good and the bad with him. You wanted everything he was offering - whether it was holding your hand, kissing you during his shifts in the pub, all the mindblowing sex, warmth in his eyes as he whispered 'I love you', his fingers tracing your skin as you laid opposite each other and talked between fucking, his warmth, his love... You wanted it all. And if he had kids, that was a part of this little everything you wanted so bad, no matter how worried it made you.

"Was this the reason why you freaked out so bad?" "Ain't it obvious, Y/N? I'm almost forty, with a pub and four kids on my neck. Someone as young shouldn't worry about whether they have 'nough to eat, clothes to wear, 'bout what trouble they got themselves into this time... This ain't a life for such a young little thing." "But it's your life. And I want you..." "That's precisely why you shouldn't be wantin' me, doll. C'mon." "Stop making my decisions for me, Vander. Did you plan on telling me about the kids?" "Not for a bit... I was worried it would drive you away. I'm a selfish bastard, haven't you noticed?" "Fucking far from it. The least you could do was to tell me about them. It would make things less embarrassing." "What do you mean?"

"I mean, if you told me ahead of time, we could have our little rendezvous at my place - do you realize how awkward this is for me? For them also, I'm sure." "I'm sorry, Y/N... I didn't know how to bring it up..." "We better get going before Powder blows the kitchen up." "... You ain't gonna leave?" "Of course not. These kids are a part of your life, so I want to get to know them. Step by step. If let me stick around, I can be a good step-mum to them one day, maybe." "Are you serious?" - Vander asked, staring at you with his lips parted. "Dead serious." "I... Fucking love you, Y/N." "Right back at you, handsome. Move your ass before someone barges in to drag us into the kitchen."

___ Author's note: So, regarding Ezreal... I didn't want him to come across as a sappy romantic who's in love with the reader - he's more of a naïve playboy in my mind, constantly falling in love with whoever's in front of him, seeing different people every week. Ez definitely got the charm and rizz to pull something like that off. On the other hand, I think it could be a platonic love situation - they're both into each other (to one degree or another) - the reader doesn't date him, however, because she has standards, and Ezreal, as he admitted, would rather die than seeing someone like himself fooling around with her.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Old Faces

Summary: At seventeen, Dean fell hard for the girl in his high school English class. He never got a chance to make a move before he was on the road again. When he bumps into her working the same case as himself, he wants to know how her apple pie life got flipped upside down...

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 1,200ish

Warnings: language

A/N: Enjoy!...

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“No Ding Dongs? Are you serious?” you said, standing up with a groan at the mini mart. 

“Sorry. I got the last of them,” said a voice that was vaguely familiar. You spun around, the stranger’s eyes going wide just as fast as yours. “Do I know you? You look so familiar.”

“Y/N Y/L/N,” he said with a big smile. “You grew up to be gorgeous. I would expect nothing less though from Mountainside’s head cheerleader.”

“Ah, we went to high school together,” you said, giving him a smile. “I’m sorry, I can’t remember your name.”

“I wouldn’t expect it. I was only there three weeks. Dean Winchester,” he said.

“The bad boy!” you said with a laugh. “I remember you. You dyed the football team’s pants pink on homecoming night.”

“Yeah,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I wasn’t the most mature guy back then.”

“You past the bad boy ways?” you said.

“Mostly,” he said with a hand wave. “You live around here?”

“No. I’m just in town for work,” you said.

“Me too,” he said.

“Hey, what ever happened to you? You just left one day out of the blue,” you said.

“My dad had a different job somewhere else. It was pretty normal for us to move around a lot,” he said. 

“Too bad. The cheerleading squad talked about you all the time,” you said. “You would have had your pick of a girlfriend.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure the one I wanted wasn’t available,” he said, giving you a smile. He reached into his basket and pulled out the box of Ding Dongs, tossing them in yours. “Nice seeing you, Y/N.”

“You too, Dean.”

Later That Evening

“Drop it!” you shouted at the dark figure. It mumbled something but you saw a gun get lowered to the ground. The creature turned around but you went wide eyed for the second time that night.

“Y/N?” asked Dean, looking around before settling on you. “Wha...what are...”

“Fucking hell. You’re a hunter,” you said, lowering your gun, Dean dropping his hands. “It makes perfect sense now.”

“You hunt?” he asked.

“Well I-”

You woke up in a motel room, your head throbbing as you sat up, blinking at Dean and someone else.

“Sorry about the concussion. I thought you were the witch,” said the man.

“Nope. Not her,” you groaned, sighing as you tried to get to your feet.

“Take it easy,” said Dean, guiding you to stay on the bed. 

“Did you get the witch?” you asked.

“No,” said Dean. “Sam’s working another lead though. We think she might still be in town.”

“Good,” you said. 

“So you’re a hunter?” he asked.

“As I was saying before Paul Bunyan over there hit me, yes,” you said. “Been one for a while.”

“But you had such a perfect life,” said Dean. 

“Have you ever heard the phrase, keeping up appearances?” you asked. Dean looked over to Sam, both staring at their laps. “Of course. You grew up hunters. You knew how to pretend to be normal kids.”

“Did your parents hunt?” asked Dean. You scoffed and shook your head.

“When I was about thirteen, my parents went out on a date night. The things that came home were not my parents. If I played along and played house like everything was fine, they told me they’d let my parents go. They were demons. My parents died that night I’m pretty sure but I didn’t know any of that. I spent the next five years doing what they wanted, pretending everything was fine,” you said.

“What changed?” asked Dean.

“I found out about hunting, demons...I realized play time was over and I had to get out of there,” you said.

“And I thought we had a messed up childhood,” said Dean, running his hand through his hair.

“So...we teaming up on this witch thing or what?” you asked.

“Uh, sure,” said Dean, Sam nodding his head. “The more the merrier.”

“Sam,” you asked that night while Dean was busy grabbing some food from a fast food place. “Why does Dean keep staring at me?”

“Because you’re Y/N Y/L/N,” said Sam with a little laugh from the front seat of baby. “Dean had the biggest crush in the world on you. He wouldn’t shut up about you for three weeks straight.”

“He had a crush on me?” you asked. “Why?”

“Why does any teenage boy have a crush on the head cheerleader?” said Sam with an eye roll. “He probably thought you were cute.”

“He’s not like...obsessed or something,” you said, Sam immediately shaking his head.

“My guess is he’s just super surprised you turned out to be a hunter,” said Sam.

“Yeah. That’s probably it.”

“Well that went smoother than expected,” you said around midnight, slamming your trunk closed. 

“You should think about getting a partner. They come in handy,” said Dean. You nodded and went to climb in your car when Dean grunted. “Give us a second Sammy?”

“What’s up?” you asked, Dean waiting until Sam was tucked away in the Impala.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Back in high school. I could have helped. I could gotten my dad involved and-”

“I don’t know what you remember about high school but we weren’t friends,” you said.

“No but you did keep the football team from pounding me to death after the pants thing,” he said. 

“It was a harmless prank. I figured the new kid didn’t need to get beaten half to death,” you said.

“Yeah and I said thanks and you made some weird comment and I asked if you were okay and you gave another weird comment and then I never saw you again,” he said.

“I’m sorry. You’re right. I should have gone talking about my demon parents to every kid I didn’t know on the off chance they could help,” you said, crossing your arms. 

“Well...I could have done something,” he said. 

“It wasn’t your problem. I dealt with it and it’s over,” you said.

“You didn’t make a deal, did you?” he asked.

“No. I handled it,” you said. “Is that what’s been eating you all night? You think you didn’t save me back then so you’re responsible?”

“I’m thinking if I had the guts to ask you out, I might have gone over to your house and seen the signs and saved you a lot of crap,” he said.

“Like I said, I handled it,” you said.

“You don’t have to be in this life you know,” he said.

“Neither do you,” you said.

“Yes I do.”

“Me too,” you said.

“Can I at least buy you a beer?” he asked.

“Took you long enough to ask,” you said with a small smile.

“Better late than never.”

______________

[wosounited]

Telling Tales (Katrina Gorry x Reader)

Part 1

Set at the beginning of 2024, midway through the 2023/2024 season

“Ladies, attention please. This is Kyra, as some of you know. Please make her feel welcome and show her the ropes in here” Jonas announced as Kyra entered the gym alongside him.

You were off in the corner with Leah and Katie when the young Aussie came in, lifting weights and not really paying attention to the introduction. Caitlin and Steph had left the group to make sure they were the first ones beside the newcomer, knowing her well from the national team.

“Morning, pest” Steph teased, patting Kyra’s head before Caitlin pulled her into a headlock.

“Mum, do something” Kyra shouted towards Steph who cupped her own ear, pretending like she couldn’t hear a word the young Aussie was saying as she battled to get out of Caitlin’s headlock. Katie re-hit play on the music as it pumped through the speaker and you all began to lift weights again.

“I thought this was The Arsenal not The Ausenal?” Katie laughed.

“Jesus Christ” Leah groaned.

“How long have you been sitting on that one?” Caitlin asked.

“Since I heard she was signin’” Katie smirked, almost like she was proud of herself for coining that term.

“I’m Y/n” you said as you dropped the weights and smiled, sticking your hand out to Kyra for her to shake.

“Kyra” she smiled back. Your introduction had shocked the young girl. Your intimidating demeanour had never matched your bubbly and friendly personality.

“Nice to meet you” you shook her hand with a firm grip and turned back to the weights to start lifting again.

“Always so polite” Katie laughed in a teasing manner as you rolled your eyes, continuing on with your session.

“Is there anybody else you want to meet today?” Steph asked Kyra.

“Win” she giggled.

“As in the dog?” Caitlin laughed as Kyra nodded.

“Y/n” Steph shouted as you finished a rep and put the weights back. You jogged over to the Aussie trio and Steph wrapped her arms around your waist and your arm fell across her shoulders. You and Steph had been friends for years, and everyone in Arsenal was very comfortable with each other. “Is Win with you again this week?” She asked as you smiled and nodded. It was your turn, again, to watch the new Arsenal superstar this week.

“Kyra wants to meet him” Caitlin laughed.

“I’m having people over for dinner tonight, would you maybe like to come?” You asked the girl as Steph and Caitlin looked at you dumbfounded.

“Where’s our invite?” Steph groaned.

“I put it in the group chat days ago” you quipped defensively, taking out your phone to prove the point that you had actually put it in the chat several days ago. You shoved your phone into both of their faces as they now read your message and shrugged their shoulders. “Did Katie not tell you? She helped me organise it” you laughed at Caitlin.

“Katie McCabe” Caitlin shouted, stomping over to her girlfriend whose face dropped at the usage of her full name.

“Come on then kid, we’ll get you started” you put your arm around Kyra’s shoulder and brought her over towards the weight equipment.

“Perfect, you can take over as her mother then” Steph shouted after you, making you both laugh. If only you knew.

-

It was later that evening when the squad had came over. A few of your teammates, that you considered close friends, Caitlin, Leah, Katie, Viv and Beth had come over to help you clean and cook before everyone else arrived. Steph was on Kyra duty, so she had text you to say she wouldn’t be over at the normal time, which was usually earlier than everyone else, except for Katie who practically lived in your house. You’d been really good friends with Steph since you met each other, but you’d been best friends with Katie since you signed for Arsenal a few years ago.

You greeted everyone as they came in, and Steph arrived last, as expected, with an overexcited Kyra beside her.

“Kyra, hey” you shouted, waving at the girl who came bouncing towards you. “Win” you whistled, as the dog came to sit by your side. “Win, this is Kyra” you introduced them, probably the opposite way around to what other people expected. Usually, the human would be introduced to the dog. “Win, say hello” you patted her head as she stuck her paw in the air for Kyra to take it.

“How the hell?” Leah look bewildered.

“Win never wants to leave her. Always cryin’ when someone else has to take her” Katie explained with a laugh. You’d had her all week but only had her three weeks prior to that too. It was great because you could bring her to training with you and she was familiar with the environment. You just hated when you had to bring her back, and she hated it too. Sometimes she’d take a run for it and sit in the passenger seat of your car, just waiting to go home with you.

Kyra dropped down to the ground to start rubbing and patting her, and you knew she was loving all the attention she was getting from the young Aussie midfielder.

“Right, everyone in for a photo with Win” Beth shouted as she set a timer on her phone and placed it on the counter, being held up by your kettle.

“Up” you said as the dog jumped into your arms and you caught her with ease. You all smiled for the photo and a lot of you had shared the post to Instagram later in the evening. Kyra had shared the picture, captioning it best night ever with my new family. You were stood right beside the young girl, catching the attention of another Australian player, on her nightly Instagram scrolling, that you’d yet to meet.

It was late before people started to head out. You’d invited a few people to stay the night and a couple took you up on the offer, the early crew gang along with Lia, Steph and Kyra.

“How are you finding England?” You asked Kyra, who you were sat shoulder to shoulder with. Although you were slouched down, nearly lying fully on the floor while everyone else was trapped in some game you’d both been knocked out of.

“I’m loving it so far. It’s great to have Caitlin and Steph here and then Katrina is just at West Ham and Charli is at Spurs, so it’s really all coming together” she smiled.

“You’ll be a great asset to the team” you patted her head as she eventually settled her head on shoulder. She was like the little sister that you never had, although, she viewed you more like a mum, and you only grew closer from there.

Kyra was fascinated by you, how caring and overly nice you were. She pondered over it for weeks before it finally clicked with her. She wanted to set you up with the perfect person, and she had just the person in mind.

-

“Mum, I’m telling you” Kyra squealed at the dinner table.

“Okay, I’ve had this conversation with both of you already, please stop calling me mum. It’s confusing Harper” Katrina said, slapping Kyra and Charli’s heads simultaneously.

“I didn’t say anything!” Charli whined, while Harper continued to play with a toy in her lap, oblivious to the conversation happening above her.

“She is so your type. She’s smart, she’s funny, she’s attractive and she’s got her shit together” Kyra rambled and Katrina slapped her once again for swearing infront of Harper.

“Oi” Katrina grunted, eyeing the toddler in earshot of Kyra’s cursing.

“Please just agree to meet her so this can stop” Charli said, covering Harper’s ears.

“Fine” Katrina snapped, rolling her eyes. In truth, since Katrina saw the Instagram story Kyra shared of you, Katrina had the same opinion of you that Kyra had just rambled on about. You were her type, you were attractive and from what she’d heard from Steph, you very much so had your shit together.

Overjoyed with the news that Katrina was comfortable enough to meet you, Kyra slipped into training the next morning and grabbed Caitlin and Steph to help hatch a plan. Kyra explained her thoughts to Caitlin and Steph about how she thought the two of you would suit eachother really well.

“Holy shit” Steph gasped.

“How have we not realised this before?” Caitlin said, punching Steph’s arm lightly.

“They’re like perfect for eachother!” Steph shouted.

“Who is?” Leah asked.

“Y/n and Katrina” Kyra explained.

“From West Ham?” She asked as all three nodded. “Yeah, I can see that” Leah laughed.

“So, how do we introduce them?” Caitlin asked as all three sat puzzled. Leah had been pulled away into a meeting with Kim, while you and Katie were stuffed into a corner of the canteen, whispering secretively about something.

“I’ve got it” Kyra shouted as all three of them huddled closer together and Kyra explained the plan.

-

The whole Arsenal squad, plus a few London based Aussie’s and their friends and partners, filtered into Caitlin and Katie’s house during a league break. The music was loud and the house was dark, apart from some type of strobe lighting that you and Katie had impulsively bought and stuck up during Covid.

When you arrived, you instantly found your best friend and worked your way out to the shed in the garden where you could both talk in private. You and Katie had practically built that shed and made it a man-cave type place where you hung out, alone, in peace. It had a sofa bed, a TV, a PlayStation and a mini fridge. What more could you ask for?

“This party is a set up, by the way” Katie told you as you both sipped on your drinks, sitting on the sofa in the cave.

“What do you mean?” You asked as a frown took over your face.

“They’re tryin’ to set ye up with someone from the Australian team” Katie laughed, leading to you joining in due to how stupid that sounded.

“Which one?” You tried to ask but she shrugged, Caitlin had left out that part. “Australians” you said as you playfully rolled your eyes.

“How long do ye think we can hide out here?” Katie asked.

“Hopefully the whole night” you smirked, flicking on the TV and PlayStation.

It had been a good long while, but eventually Caitlin found you both and an angry expression covered her face as she stood in the doorway.

“There you both are! We have been looking for you everywhere” she snapped.

“We’ve been out here since Y/n/n got here” Katie replied, not looking away from the screen.

“Which was?” Caitlin asked while you quickly checked your watch, before going back to the screen.

“Two hours ago” you replied, aggressively pressing buttons on your controller.

“Get inside, now” Caitlin sternly said as Katie paused the game.

“That is her serious voice” Katie whispered as you nodded and both stood up, following Katie’s angry girlfriend inside. You walked behind Katie, who flung the door open, stepping aside so you could go through first. Only, she didn’t see on the opposite side of the door that someone was leaning against it, clearly not expecting it to fly open. You were quick to react, catching the falling woman and helping her back to her feet.

“Thank you” she smiled as she turned to face you.

“It’s cool” you replied nonchalantly. You tried to keep your cool in that moment, but you couldn’t take your eyes off the woman stood in front of you.

“I don’t think we’ve met properly. I’m Katrina I play for-” she began.

“West Ham” you interrupted with your voice creeping a bit high as you coughed. “I know. It’s Y/n” you smiled.

“I know” she said as she looked you up and down.

“Can I get you another drink?” You asked, looking toward the empty cup in her hand. Steph and Caitlin smirked at the other as you and Katrina wandered off to the fridge to get another drink.

“Okay, so the plan-” Kyra began.

“Shut up you pest” Steph groaned. “We didn’t actually need your plan” she whispered, pointing over at the two of you talking, far away from anybody else at the party.

You spent the rest of the night with Katrina. You were beer pong buddies, you danced to some songs that played and eventually, you found yourselves alone in the living room. You were both deep in conversation about everything and anything when you were interrupted by people leaving, coming to say goodbye. Katrina noticed Kyra looked tired and decided to be a good adopted mother and take her home.

“I’m really sorry, but seeming as that one thinks I’m her mum, I should probably get her home” Katrina smiled as you looked over towards Kyra who was pouting like a child and rubbing her eyes. You nodded at the woman while she beckoned Kyra over, and things went silent for a few seconds.

“I’m sorry if this is a bit forward, but I had a really nice time tonight. Could I maybe get your number?” You asked in a whispered tone as a smile lit up her face. She took your phone and typed her number in before reaching up, almost needing to jump to kiss your cheek, before heading off with a tired Kyra that you got a light fist bump off.

You slumped down on the couch hovering your thumbs over your new contact before eventually closing your phone and your eyes.

The next morning you were woken by Katie after you’d passed out on her couch.

“Get up ye big fuckin’ lump” Katie shouted pushing your shoulder. She’d always referred to you as a big lump. You stood at 6’2, almost an entire foot taller than her. She burst out laughing when you groaned, rubbing your eyes and began adjusting to your surroundings. The house was in a state. Caitlin was frantically moving around to clean while Katie passed you a mug of tea and sat beside you on the couch. You took a quick sip, placing it on a coaster and got up to help Caitlin without speaking to your best friend. You’d taken packed, heavy black bags out of her hands and took them outside to put in the bin

“Why can’t you be as helpful as Y/n?” Caitlin asked Katie who just smirked and shrugged.

“Maybe go out with Y/n then” Katie laughed, going back to scrolling on her phone.

“Thank you” Caitlin whispered as you got back in from taking bags to the bins outside.

“Hey Cait?” You asked as you were putting away dishes from the dishwasher and Caitlin was sweeping the floor.

“Yeah?” She replied, stopping herself from cleaning for a minute, sensing the tone in your voice was urgent.

“Your friend, Katrina. What’s her-” you stopped yourself, trying to phrase it correctly.

“She’s single” Caitlin blurted out as you nodded. “And then she’s got Harper” Caitlin added.

“Harper?” You asked.

“Someone clearly didn’t watch our documentary” Caitlin teased before continuing. “Harper, as in her three year old child” Caitlin explained as you nodded.

“You’re tryin’ to set up Y/n/n with someone who has a kid?” Katie laughed from the door which made you turn your body around to face her. “She hates kids” Katie continued as Caitlin scowled.

She was right, you did hate kids.

“Do you?” Caitlin asked, raising her eyebrow.

“With a passion” Katie confirmed, laughing again as you awkwardly joined in, not knowing what to say

“You infuriate me” Caitlin snapped at her girlfriend and stormed out of the room.

“That’s my queue” you informed her, patting Katie on the shoulder, wishing her good luck with her angry girlfriend, and heading out of the house.

When you got home you sat on the couch, opting to just have an easy day to cure the tiredness and slight hangover you had. You were scrolling through some platforms trying to find something to watch, when you eventually came by something that caught your eye.

Matildas: The World at Our Feet

You got comfortable before you clicked play. You ended up watching every single episode and Katrina’s storyline was pretty emotional to say the least. You thought about texting her, but did you really want to get into a situationship, or worse, a relationship with someone who had a kid?

It’s not a lie that you and kids would probably never be put in the same sentence. You truly despised them. The constant crying, the screaming and shouting, the unpredictability, the thoughts of you being responsible for another human. No. Absolutely not.

But you liked Katrina, it was tough. You thought about it for a few hours, before finally caving.

Y/n

Hey, it’s Y/n, from last night. I was wondering if you maybe wanted to get dinner when you’re free?

Katrina saw your message come through and couldn’t help the smile that settled on her face.

Katrina

I’d love that, when would you be free?

It took a few days for your schedules to match up to when you were both free, but you were finally heading out for dinner tonight.

Charli and Kyra were in charge of minding Harper in Katrina’s absence, but Steph had also made a magical appearance over to their house. Unbeknownst to them, Steph was there to watch them and Harper.

“Who are you going out with?” Steph asked Katrina as she got ready, leaving the children, Charli and Kyra included, downstairs playing Mario-Kart.

“Just, you know, a friend of a friend” Katrina smirked as Steph nodded and smiled. There was a knock on the door that halted the conversation and Steph waved Katrina off who was heading to answer it.

“You finish up getting ready, I’ll get it. It’s probably their pizza” Steph said as she got off the bed. Katrina didn’t push, she knew you were collecting her but not for another half an hour and you told her you’d text when you were outside.

“Oh, hey Stephy” you smiled when your friend swung the door open.

“Y/n?” Steph said, looking at you up and down until she focused on the flowers in your hand. “No way”.

“What?” You frowned.

“When she said a friend of a friend I didn’t know the friend she was talking about was me and the friend of mine she was dating was you” she poked at your chest. “Why didn’t you tell me?” She was whisper shouting at you, to not alert the trio in the living room or the woman upstairs.

“Well, it’s our first date” you laughed. “I haven’t told anybody”

“Not even Katie?” Steph asked as you shook your head.

“Steph, who’s at the door?” Katrina barked as she swung it further open to get a view. “Oh, hi” she smiled.

“Hey” you smiled back. “Uh, these are for you” you handed her the flowers as Steph raised her eyebrows at you. You’d never been a flower-buyer type for previous girls.

“Thank you so much. Can you just give me two seconds and I’ll meet you in the car?” She asked as you nodded.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Stephy” you poked Steph’s nose before you walked back to the car.

“Mini, why didn’t you invite her in?” Steph asked as she closed the door, following Katrina into the kitchen who was putting the flowers into a vase.

“I don’t want Harper seeing someone new and getting attached. What if it doesn’t work out and then Harper gets upset?” Katrina breathed out as Steph nodded in understanding.

“I’ll take good care of all three of your kids” Steph said softly, squeezing her shoulder almost as if she was telling Katrina she was proud of her for putting herself out there.

“We share custody of Kyra, don’t forget that” Katrina laughed before hugging the defender and saying goodbye to all three children in the living room. It wasn’t long until she got into the car and you began driving. “I’m sorry if it came across rude I didn’t invite you in, it’s just-” she tried to explain, but you shook your head.

“I get it. Dating with a kid must be hard” you smiled softly and she felt like you took the words right out of her mouth. She replayed the conversation you had at the party, and she remembered she never once brought up Harper.

“How did you know I have a kid? Stalker” Katrina teased as you laughed.

“Well, Caitlin told me and then gave me shit I didn’t watch your World Cup documentary” you explained as Katrina laughed. “So, I watched it” you added.

“Oh yeah? What did you think?” She asked.

“You’re uh, very inspirational” you coughed, staring at the road straight ahead of you with both your hands tightening their grip of the steering wheel.

“Why? Because of Harper?” She asked, stroking your arm softly with her fingertips and feeling how tense you were.

“Well, yeah” you nodded. “But also how you manage to deal with Kyra on a regular basis” you chuckled as she slapped your arm lightly and laughed at you.

Dinner went nicer than you had expected it to. You took her to a fancy London restaurant and paid. Your conversation was almost as if you’d known each other for years, and you couldn’t remember dating someone ever being this easy before. She showed you pictures of Harper now and how much bigger she was than in the docu-series. You also made her realise you had no clue about kids, which was meant to worry her, but instead she found cute.

“She’s grown” you pointed out as Katrina showed you a recent photo of the two of them.

“Yeah, they do that” Katrina laughed as you playfully rolled your eyes back at her.

Katrina had offered to get herself home, but you immediately shook your head at her and opened the passenger door for her to get in the car. When you arrived back to her house, you brought the car to a stop.

“Tonight was really nice” you smiled.

“I thought so too” she smiled back.

“Would you, maybe, want to do something again?” You asked as she nodded and leaned over to kiss your cheek.

“Text me, okay?” she replied before getting out of the car and walking up the path to the house. You realised you were already in deep when you didn’t take your eyes off the girl until the front door shut.

“Mummy, I missed you” Harper squealed when Katrina got in.

“I missed you too monkey. Did auntie Steph not put you to bed?” Katrina frowned, scooping the toddler into her arms.

“Let me go” Kyra shouted.

“You cheated” Charli shouted back.

“There is only meant to be one child in this house, and neither of you are it!” Steph groaned, trying desperately to pull the pair apart.

“Hey!” Katrina shouted as all three of them stopped in their tracks.

“She-” Kyra tried to explain.

“Don’t” Katrina warned. “Charli, put Harper to bed” she added, handing the baby over to the blonde.

“Go help her, and try not kill each other” Steph pushed Kyra to follow the Spurs player up the stairs.

“You did cheat” Charli whispered.

“Charlotte” Katrina shouted in a warning tone again, before it went silent and two older Australian duo let out a shared laugh.

“So, how’d it go?” Steph asked.

“I really like her” Katrina smiled as Steph almost leapt at her out of excitement.

“I knew you would” Steph added with a squeal.

-

You’d been on a few more dates before you made it official. You eventually got the honour of being introduced to Harper and had fully respected Katrina’s decision to wait until it was official until you met her. Surprisingly, you actually really enjoyed when Harper tagged along on dates now. You’d always plan something fun for all three of you, like the zoo or the cinema. Harper became very comfortable around you, often wanting you to put her on your shoulders or hold your hand. Apart from her own mum, you were her new favourite person, and apart from her mum, she was yours.

Eventually, after a few months, things became so serious with Katrina that you were collecting Harper from pre-school if she couldn’t, or bringing her to Katrina’s match if you didn’t have one yourself that day. Your friends all knew you two were dating, but you’d never thought of taking her out with you due to Harper needing to be minded. You gave a hand with babysitting duties now too when Katrina needed a night with her friends, although, you didn’t view it as babysitting. In fact, you yourself were opting a lot more lately for a night in with Katrina and Harper than a night out with your team mates. But after taking enough shit from Katie that you never do anything anymore, you decided to invite Katrina out to do something with them.

“Would you maybe want to go out with my friends some evening? I’d like to introduce you properly to them” you smiled across from her at the dinner table, where only the two of you were sitting.

“We can ask Charli if she’ll mind Harper?” Katrina beamed.

“Charli” you shouted as she came crashing through the door, Harper following in behind her and jumping into your lap, poking you in the face making you laugh. “Would you mind looking after Harps one evening this week?” You asked as she giggled and put her hands out for Harper to run back to her. You helped the toddler back to the ground to run back towards her big sister.

“I’ll take that as a yes” Katrina laughed.

-

The night rolled around for you to bring Katrina out, and Kyra was buzzing to introduce her two mums to the team as her mums. When Katrina headed outside with Kyra to get into the taxi, you were sat at the bottom of the stairs, fixing your shoes.

“I’ll be out in two seconds” you shouted after them, waiting until the front door was closed to start your routine. “Charlotte” you said from the living room door with your arms folded.

“I know, I know, bed by 9pm, no sweets, no scary movies and nobody in or out” she recited like a hymn.

“Harps, I’ll see you later, yeah?” You smiled as the little toddler came running towards you, wrapping her arms around your legs. You bent down to give her a fist bump before patting Win’s head, and heading out to the taxi.

“Love you” Harper shouted as she ran back towards Charli, whose head shot to your eyes which were beaming out of your head.

“Has she ever-” Charli asked as you shook your head, still speechless. “Say it back, don’t upset her” Charli whispered.

“I love you too, Harper” you eventually got out, and smiled as the toddler waved goodbye to you.

“Have a nice night” Charli said softly as you walked out of the living room and towards the door, with a massive grin on your face.

“Everything okay?” Katrina asked as you got in and you nodded with a smile.

“You’ll never believe-” you tried to say.

“Party time, yeah!” Kyra shouted.

“Shut it, you pest” Katrina groaned as Kyra started playing with the LED lights that the taxi had inside of it.

The night was going really good, Katrina and your mates were getting along really well. Caitlin and Steph just kept giving you thumbs up from the other side of the table, delighted their plan had worked out. You and Katie were sat beside each other, bickering about something that happened in training the other day.

“Fine” you shouted, eventually rising from the table and storming off.

“What’s happened now?” Caitlin asked with a roll of the eyes.

“I proved her wrong and she owes me a drink” Katie laughed.

“You’ll get used to those pair acting like children when they’re together” Caitlin informed Katrina who laughed.

“I still can’t believe ye’s set up Y/n with someone who has a kid” Katie laughed, as Katrina turned her head to look at her.

“Katie” Caitlin warned.

“What do you mean?” Katrina asked, frown still ever present on her face.

“I just mean, Y/n hates kids. Never showed any desire to have any, so I don’t know why they thought settin’ her up to play happy families with ye was goin’ to work. No offence” Katie grinned.

“Enough now” Caitlin sternly said as Katrina got up from her seat.

“Mini” Steph sighed. Without another word, Katrina left the bar and got a taxi home. Kyra quickly followed her outside and jumped in to the taxi too. When you got back to the table, a lot of the girls had worried expressions on their faces after hearing the interaction play out between your girlfriend and your best friend. Caitlin was giving Katie an earful while Steph sat with her head in her hands.

“What’s gone on?” You asked, slamming the drink in front of your best mate. “Where’s Katrina?” You frowned, looking around, presuming they would say in the bathroom. Caitlin gave Katie the angry eyes you were all too familiar with seeing your best friend getting from her girlfriend.

“Yeah, look-” Katie began.

“What the fuck did you say?” You dragged the girl up by the collar, forcing her off the chair she had just been sat in. Leah and Viv quickly rose to their feet to separate the two of you as Katie just held her hands up in surrender.

“I just may have mentioned your hatred for kids” Katie said with a guilty look on your face. “I was tryin’ to make a point of how, ye know, ye must really like her if you’re willin’ to put up with her kid” Katie shrugged in Viv’s grip. Leah was still firmly holding onto you and taking a tighter grip as you lunged forward.

“You are a fucking idiot” you spat out in anger. “Do you not know how protective over Harper she is? Do you not realise how much effort I’ve put in to make her feel comfortable having me around her?” You snapped as she put her eyes to the floor. “Let me go” you grunted at Leah, who did what you asked as you grabbed your jacket and stormed out. Viv finally released Katie as the Irish girl slumped back into her chair.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Y/n so angry” Leah said to Viv as they walked back to their seats.

“You need to apologise to her, and Katrina” Caitlin scowled as Katie nodded. You forgot about the concept of ordering or flagging down a taxi, instead opting to walk to Katrina’s house. A walk that would usually take 45 minutes took you 20, as you practically sprinted there. You knocked on the door, and Charli answered with Harper in her arms.

“Oh, shit” Charli said

“Shit” Harper repeated. You raised your eyebrows at Charli as Harper made grabby hands for you. The blond handed Harper off to you and she let you inside, knowing if she did, you wouldn’t repeat the curse word she just taught Harper to her mother.

“Where’s mummy?” You asked the toddler as she pointed towards the staircase. You placed her down in the living room, patting Win’s head once again before heading upstairs towards Katrina’s bedroom. Win was your dog now. Although she was the Arsenal mascot, it was decided she could live with you full time. You knocked before letting yourself in, watching on as Katrina was sitting on the edge of the bed, in floods of tears and Kyra was sat beside her. “Crossy, can you give us a minute?” You asked as the young girl quickly left the room. You were a giant in comparison to her, and were slightly intimidating, so she was not willing to debate. “Katrina-” you began the second Kyra left, but your girlfriend raised her hand to stop you.

“I think enough has been said tonight” Katrina managed to get out, holding back a sob.

“No, I don’t think so” you disagreed.

“What was your main objective of this relationship? If you hate kids so much why did you do this to me? Has this all been some type of game to you or something?” She was whispering, so as to not let any of the three hear that you were arguing.

“This hasn’t been- darlin’ I-” you tried to plead your case once again.

“She told me exactly how you felt and she’s your best friend, Y/n. So don’t tell me it’s not how you feel, why would our situation be any different?” She put her head in her hands and finally allowed herself to cry.

“I don’t know” you shrugged as silence filled the air, until you spoke again. “Well, actually, I do” you said. “I knew from the moment we met that night that I really liked you and I knew what I was getting into when I asked you out. I knew you had Harper, I knew how much she meant to you, and it’s different with you because-” you hesitated “I’m in love with you” you breathed out. “And I love Harper. I love our little life together and the little family we are making. My favourite part of the week is when you ask me to collect her from pre school” you sighed, dropping onto the bed next to her and feeling your own eyes start to well up with tears.

“Y/n-” Katrina took a breath of relief.

“I don’t care if you want to believe Katie, because what she said is true. But it’s past tense, my perspective changed the second you came into my life. I wouldn’t change anything we have and it certainly would not be Harper” you pulled her into a tight hug, making sure she felt completely reassured. “If I could change one thing, it would be our two older kids” you chuckled as you felt her tears fall against you as she laughed against your chest.

“I’m so sorry” she squeezed you tighter

“You have nothing to apologise for. I understand she is your priority and you don’t just let anybody at random into her life, but you are both my priority too” you informed her. You both sat there for awhile, wrapped up in eachother.

“I’m going to go get Harper and put her to bed” Katrina said as you nodded.

“I’ll go make some tea” you mumbled as you finally parted and walked downstairs together. You headed straight to the kitchen as Katrina scooped Harper up off the ground.

“Time for bed monkey” she said as Harper protested. “Fine, five minutes” Katrina sighed as she took off in a run towards you in the kitchen. A huge bundle of laughter came from the two of you and Katrina couldn’t help but smile.

“All sorted then?” Kyra said as Katrina nodded

“We could have told you she loved Harper” Charli laughed and Kyra rolled her eyes but eventually started to laugh too.

“What do you mean?” Katrina asked.

“Well firstly, she told Harper she loved her earlier because Harper told her she loved her and she would do anything for that kid to make her happy” Charli smiled as Katrina’s heart melted at the sound of the story mixed with the noise of the two of you messing in the kitchen.

“When we’re babysitting Harper, she gives you the same protective talk before she goes” Kyra giggled. “Nobody in our out Kyra, do I make myself clear?” Kyra added, mimicking you

“Bed before 9pm” Charli joined in, also mocking your voice.

“Which clearly wasn’t listened to tonight” you frowned, looking at the time which read 11:27pm and having the wired toddler clung to your back.

“Come on Harps, bed time” Katrina said as the toddler finally gave in. You gave Katrina a look, which told her you could take her up as the woman just smiled back.

“Will I take you to bed?” You asked as you got smacked in the face, which was her way of saying yes, and being excited about it.

“Shit” Harper shouted from the staircase as Katrina’s draw dropped to the floor. Kyra immediately looked at Charli who had a look of guilt on her face.

“Charlotte Grant you are never babysitting again” you shouted.

“Angry mum is so annoyed with you” Kyra shoved her blonde friend, standing up off the couch.

“No, no Kyra. Don’t call Y/n mum now too” Katrina warned.

“Damn it, scary mum is going to shout at me, isn’t she?” Charli whined, walking after Kyra into the kitchen.

“We are not your parents” Katrina shouted, to no avail.

Meanwhile, upstairs you were wrestling with a toddler, trying to get her to go to sleep. After multiple arguments, she’d got dressed into one of your Arsenal jerseys and you’d agreed to read her a story. After about 25 minutes when you still hadn’t made an appearance downstairs, Katrina tiptoed upstairs to look for you. Sure enough, the story worked wonders for you and Harper. You were both asleep, snuggled into eachother with your legs hanging off of the little princess bed. Katrina snapped a photo of the moment, before she gently woke you up to bring you to her bedroom.

“Love you” you mumbled as you rested your head on her chest and her fingernails scraped the back of your neck.

“Love you too” Katrina smiled, pulling you a little bit tighter against her.

Your hatred of children was long gone now that you were loved up and had two grown up daughters and a toddler.

[i-yap]

Batboys x quiet! reader(who is not quiet in private)

( some of the reasons for the quietness is a bit traumatic so uhh warning)

Dick grayson -

opposites attract is possibly my favorite trope ever. And that is exactly what you guys are . Not exactly golden retriever x black cat though people who didn't know you guys well assumed such .

Dick would get exhausted spending forever being charming and charismatic for even the most extroverted of people get tired when they had to manage multiple superhero teams, a detective squad and the whole batfamily.

You were silence, peace serenity almost..until you weren't. Grayson was worried about this relationship in the start, after all you guys were really different. He was afraid you were going to be annoyed by his sunshine self, and that when he isn't feeling like talking, the conversations would go silent.

But you really are so different when comfortable with someone, and its tough not to trust and drop your shield with grayson.

It took him by surprise slowly seeing you open up and show your weird side. It somehow made him cherish it more and even want to show sides of him that only you got to see.

When he asked you why you weren't like this with everyone you said " My parents had a habit of talking over me, sometimes outrightly not hearing me speak at all. No matter how loud I spoke..i wondered if they couldn't hear me...if anyone even wanted to you" "why me then?" asked dick , "you're nothing like my parents, I know you care" and he does..he really does. He won't ever let you feel like that every again. He will make sure everything you want said is heard, and if not he will burn it into the skyline

Jason todd

he appreciated it, a quiet person in public. He hated being in public, he hated the buzz the noise the push the touch of humans around him. He felt strange

till he feels you hold his knowing you felt just as strange as him. Leave the gala and walk around the library , one earphone in each ear listening to whatever you wished to play.

Pulling you close in crowded areas- was it for you or for him? Glaring at anyone who dared tease you about your quietness. A single glare usually does the job but don't worry ...other ways exist too.

He loves that when you two are alone, you are a completely different person. It makes him feel special, like he is the only one who understands you. Because you're the only one who understands him.

When he asks " well I guess I never felt like people liked what came out of my mouth.. my humour too dark, my words too dumb and I didn't make sense. So I stopped trying" don't worry about being cringe..he understands you completely

Tim drake

he is intruiged. How do you pull such a perfect facade. How does one look so poised and collected with those rich assholes and so wild and untamed with him?

He could never really perfect the act the way you did. He's seen you grow up, but somehow its like you were born with two people living in your brain.

If you're this mysterious to your childhood lover, how does anyone in the world even think that they could know you, both versions of you.

Dont get me wrong, he loved it, A mystery he never could solve, not even with your help.

" Teach me your ways master" "I remember you wanting me to call you that last night..oh no wait it was si-" "shut upp" "fine ill tell you timmy boy, I just believe those rich stick up their ass puppets don't deserve to see all ..this.." "what about school kids, friends , teemates-" "I don't need anyone to get me as long as you do"

He will never get it, even if someone engraved it into his skin he wont understand everything about you , you'll always be the case he couldn't solve.

AND WE ARE BACK BICHES , send in requests and stuff, inbox open again blah blah I'm feeling much better now but I might push angst stuff more

[dragon-kazansky]

The Last Goodbye

I'm heartbroken. I can't believe he's gone. To those of you who have been following me a while, you'll know Val Kilmer was very dear to me. Tom Kazansky, Iceman, from Top Gun has been and still is my number one fictional man 💕

My friend @sitkafay said I should write out something to express my feelings. I responded I didn't know what to write, but then an idea came to me. There's only one way really I know how to write things: In the form of a fic. So, I hope this is okay. I hope this fic can bring us all a bit of peace in his loss.

Yes, he was a celebrity, but he was an actor who made an impact. He'll be missed dearly by all his fans.

Also, thank you to everyone who came to check on me after the news. I am truly devastated by his loss, but Tom Kazansky will always be here on my page. 💗

I dedicate this fic to my Chaos Squad!

@whiskeyswriting @breadsquash @callmemana @askmarinaandothers @faerieroyal @cycbaby @tngrace @ladylanera @bayisdying @callsignscupcake

Iceman x Dragon

When Jade arrives at the house with her husband, Ron, in tow, it's quiet. Too quiet. Never have they ever known the Kazansky house to be so silent. Any other time this house would be full of laughter and chatter. The door was always open to those dropping by. Even now the door is unlocked. They were expected to come.

Walking into the main hall, they are met with even more silence. It felt wrong. Silence didn't belong in these halls, and Jade wishes with all her being that she could change it.

But she can't.

Her husband kisses her forehead and lets her find Rachael on her own. Because right now all Dragon needed was her Whiskey, as strange as that sounds.

Jade heads upstairs, taking her time. All along the wall are framed photos of a life lived. From Polaroids to photos taken from the kids' phones as they grew up. A whole lifetime.

The bedroom door is open a crack. Jade can hear soft sniffling from inside. Her heart broke knowing her friend was suffering. She doesn't even knock. Jade enters the bedroom and within seconds the other woman is on her arms sobbing.

It's not silent anymore.

The house is full of heartbreak and loss. A broken woman who doesn't know what to do with herself anymore. What does someone do when the love of their life is gone? Jade doesn't hold the answer. Slider is still here, downstairs. Ice is not. Tom is gone and Rachael is alone.

No, not alone. She'll never be alone, but a piece of her will always be missing.

Jade lets her cry until she can't no more. She guides Rachael to the bed and they both sit down. Jade doesn't say anything. She doesn't even try and make Rachael say anything. They just hold each other until Rachael's voice is hoarse and the crying stops.

“He's gone.” Her voice sounds lost and broken.

“I know,” is all Jade can think to say, rubbing her back gently.

“It's not fair. He should still be here. He… He…” She sobs again. Jade pulls her in close. “He's gone…”

Jade isn't sure how long they both stay like that for. It feels like minutes but also hours at the same time. Time means nothing in this room.

“I can't… I can't even sleep in here.”

“No, I know.” Jade kisses the top of her head and runs her fingers through her hair. Oh, how her heart aches for her friend. This was never going to be easy.

The room fills with only sobbing again. Jade tries to comfort her friend, but there's only so much she can do. She can't take away her pain.

Eventually, Ron pokes his head around through the door. Jade looks up and smiles softly at him, but her smile doesn't reach her eyes. As soon as Rachael spots Ron she gets up and gives him a hug. It's one of those big bear hugs that make you feel safe and at home. Ron lets his own tears flow.

“God, I'm so sorry.” She whispers in his ear.

“You're sorry? I'm sorry.” He says back to her.

They hold each other in this moment of peace. Though she's surrounded by two very dear friends, there's still a hole of where someone else is supposed to be. The group of four is down to three. It feels wrong somehow.

Ron takes her hands in his. “Whatever you need, we're here.”

“Thank you."

She turns toward the bed where a box sits. At first she doesn't say anything, she just stares at it. The other two follow her gaze. “It has some of his belongings in it.” Rachael walks over to the box and pulls it forward, peering inside. Jade and Ron flank her on either side to also look in it.

His aviators sit on top of everything else. Rachael picks them up and looks at them. “These old things… he's had these since day one.”

“The original?” Ron asks.

“The original,” she nods.

She sets them aside and lifts up a photo frame. “This is the photo from his office. I thought maybe you would want it, Slider.” She hands the frame over. It's the Top Gun photo.

Ron look at it quietly and nods, “I'll keep it safe.” He holds it to his chest.

The next item that comes out of the box is a leather bound journal. Rachael runs her hand down the worn out cover. “I was hoping to give this to Pete…”

“What is it?” Jade asks.

“A diary. This one specifically is from his time in Top Gun. He wrote about pretty much everyone in that class. There's a lot of comments about Pete on it, but I think it's stuff he'd like to hear.”

“He will come,” Jade says.

“Will he?”

Ron runs a hand down his face. He has no words to offer her. He can't make Maverick show up, but he hopes the man does.

At the bottom of the box is a few more items belonging to Tom, but they're just little things Rachael wanted to give to people who were dear to him, her found family mainly.

Jade wraps her arm around her shoulder ams pulls her in close. Rachael hugs the journal to her chest and cries again. “I'm sorry.”

“Don't be. Don't ever be sorry.”

“What am I going to do without him?” She cries. “He's always just… been there… and now he's not.”

Jade wraps both her arms around her now and holds her tight. There is nothing any of them can do to make this better. The pain won't just go away overnight.

Later that evening, Ron and Jade sit in the living room of the Kazansky house. Rachael is fast asleep upstairs. It took Jade a while to calm her down enough to get her to sleep, but she managed. Rachael hadn't eaten anything. Jade didn't force her to.

Her husband had just passed away, how can anyone expect to be okay after that?

Ron wraps his arm around his wife and kisses her head softly. They can't even bring themselves to turn the TV on.

“The house is too quiet.”

“The others will be here tomorrow. She asks us here first because she needed us,” Ron says softly.

“I know, but still… It feels wrong.”

He gives her a squeeze. It does feel wrong. He can feel it. Everyone feels the same. But no one is feeling pain more than their Dragon is upstairs.

“In time, we'll be okay.”

Jade nods quietly. A moment later, her phone starts ringing on the coffee table. She gets up and answers it. Ron watches her go into the kitchen and then tilts his head back to look up at the ceiling. He sighs.

The next morning, Rachael wakes up with a pounding headache. As the world comes into focus, a gasp catches in her throat. She's in their bed… her bed now. She hadn't slept in this room since he passed. Now, she was waking up to half an empty bed and a completely broken heart.

Tears come to her eyes as she stares at his untouched pillow. He was here only a few days ago, now he's gone. She reaches out and strokes the pillow gently. It's cold to the touch, but she can almost see him lying there looking at her with his beautiful blue eyes.

A sob breaks from her lips and she buries her face in her own pillow, clutching the bed covers tight. She would never wake up beside him again.

There's a soft knock at the door. Jade doesn't wait for her answer. She pushes open the door and pokes her head in. When she sees the state of her friend her heart aches for her. Jade enters the rook and sits on the edge of the bed. She strokes Rachael's hair gently. “Come on, sweetheart. You need to get up.”

“I don't want to…”

“No one wants to do this, but he deserves the send off. Come on, let's go eat.” Jade urges her friend up out of the bed and holds her hand as they go downstairs. Ron is in the kitchen cooking up a mighty breakfast. Jade guides Rachael into a chair and pours her some juice and some coffee. Ron dishes up the food and joins the two ladies at the table. No one talks as they butter their toast and tuck into their food.

Jade keeps an eye on Rachael. She worries about her. Today was the last goodbye and she feared her friend wasn't up to it, but she had to be. Jade refused to leave her friend's side for a moment. She reaches out and grasps Rachael’s shaky hand and gives it a squeeze.

Rachael can't even get through a slice of toast without tears breaking out. Jade gets up and pulls her into another hug. “It's okay. It's going to be okay.”

As Jade calms her down there's a knock at the door. Ron gets up to answer it. When he opens the door he sees Lucky. Bailey, Ice's pride and joy. She immediately falls into his arms and cries in his chest. Ron holds her tight.

Rachael stands at the end of the hall. She knew who it was who had come and she needed to see her. Bailey freed herself from Ron's arms to run to Rachael. Dragon caught her in her arms and held her tight to her chest. Lucky cried in her mama's arms. Rachael held her close and rocked her gently.

“It's going to be okay,” she whispers. Though Rachael wasn't sure which one of them she was trying to comfort.

Lucky couldn't stop crying. Rachael had never seen her girl cry so much. Though no one had seen Dragon cry so much either. Ron and Jade give the girls a bit of alone time.

Eventually, everyone gathers around the breakfast table again. Lucky sits next to Dragon, needing her mother's comfort. They both manage to eat something. Conversation was sparse, though.

Once breakfast is over, Ron works on clearing the table. Bailey goes to help him, leaving Jade and Rachael alone again. Jade insists on helping Rachael get ready for today. As much as Rachael hates to think about it, she knows she has to do this.

The two of them go upstairs. Rachael goes into the bathroom to shower and clean up herself. She hadn't taken proper care of herself these past few days. Tom would have hated knowing that.

Jade set out Rachael's outfit on the bed. She had picked it up yesterday for her before coming to the house, as well as her own. Jade got changed while she waited for her friend. She was in the process of doing her hair when Rachael came out wrapped in a towel. Jade smiled and kissed her forehead. “For luck,” she whispered.

Rachael smiled and sat on her bed to dry her hair. The two of them spent the next hour getting ready. Mainly, getting Rachael ready. Jade sorted her hair and make-up for her. Rachael was grateful she was there. She couldn't have done this on her own.

There's a knock at the door and then Lucky enters. Rachael smiles at the sight of her. Bailey was dressed and ready to go. Rachael reaches out and takes her hands in hers. They both squeeze gently.

“You look beautiful,” Rachael whispers softly.

“So do you,” Bailey smiles back.

They hug and hold each other for a while. It's Ron who disrupts the moment by entering the room. “The cars are here.”

Rachael grabs her purse and takes a deep breath. She looks at the bed for a moment. She keeps expecting him to show up, but she knows he won't.

Bailey loops her arm with Rachael's and they leave together. Rachael and Bailey get in one car, Jade and Ron get in the other. They head to the cemetery.

The car ride is quiet. Bailey doesn't let go of Rachael's hand. Both of them look out the window the whole ride there.

When they arrive, Rachall takes a deep breath. Bailey gives her hand another squeeze. “We can do this.”

“We can,” Rachael says, looking at her. They smile at each other and then climb out of the car. Jade and Ron join them and they walk up the footpath.

Now it's all real.

Rachael struggles to hold back her tears as her eyes land on the coffin. A photo of Tom stands upright behind it. She has to cover her mouth to not sob too loudly, though no one would blame her. All eyes were on her as she approached the coffin. Bailey bursts into tears again, and Ron pulls her into his side. Jade lets Rachael go on her own to approach the coffin.

Slowly, she reaches out and brushes her fingers along the top. Her vision blurs from the amount of tears running down her face.

“I love you,” she whispers.

She could almost hear him saying it back. She nearly smiles. She turns slowly and finds everyone watching her. Her family, the Top Gun recruits, old friends.

Jade holds her hand as she guides her to her seat. The ceremony begins. Rachael can hardly focus. She can't tear her gaze from his picture. It's almost like he's right there in front of her. She half expects him to smile and hold out his hand to her. She'd take and they'd kiss and dance and just be together as it should be.

But none of that happens.

All those in uniform perform the usual send off for a Navy officer. The flag is placed over the coffin.

She's then asked to say some words.

Rachael hadn't planned anything. She had been far too upset to sit and think of what to say. How can anyone think of what to say at their soulmate's funeral?

She stands on shaky legs, Jade giving her a supportive pat on her back. Rachael approaches the stand next to the coffin. Her eyes are focused on it until she comes to a stop. She takes a deep breath and faces everyone.

“I…”

What does she say? She could go with the usual funeral speech most people use… or she could find it within her heart to be honest and share how she really feels.

Just as she opens her mouth to try and speak again, someone catches her eye. He's in uniform coming toward the ceremony.

Maverick. Pete.

He catches her eye and nods at her silently. Rachael smiles. He's here. Everyone is here, and everything will be okay.

“Tom Kazansky was a lot of things to a lot of different people. Many of you knew him as Admiral Kazansky. Others knew him since he himself was a lieutenant. I always just knew him as Tom. We met many years ago, before the Navy. Dated for a while, broke up, and then got reunited again. The universe was sending us a sign. Our relationship sparked once more and from the second we both realised we couldn't be without one another, our future was set.”

She looks at the coffin again. “Tom was many things. A determined and confident pilot. A flirty and cocky gentleman.” A few people laugh. “But he was also kind, gentle, and romantic. Tom cared for those he deemed friends, and even more so for those he considered family. It's because of Tom I have the family I do today. A found family, and I wouldn't trade a single one of you for anything.”

Rachael wipes the tears from her face and looks at everyone again. “I hope you all know how much you all meant to him.” She looks at the coffin again, “and how much he meant to me.” She places her hand over her heart. “I miss him forever and always, just as much as I love him. Tom, this is my last goodbye to you, but I hope even now you know you are mine always. I love you.”

The tears run again, but this time it isn't Jade who comforts her, it's Pete. Mav takes her in his arms and hugs her tight. She returns the hug. Everyone is silent as they watch.

“I've got you,” Pete whispers.

“Thank you,” she whispers back. “For everything.” She lifts her head and looks up at him. “I'm glad you came.”

“I wasn't even going to miss it.”

“I know, but still, I'm glad to see you.”

“You too, sweetheart.”

Pete reaches into his pocket and pulls out something, holding it out to her. Rachael takes it from his hand and holds it in her open palm.

“His dog tags,” she whispers.

“I think you should have them.”

Rachael clutches them to her chest. “Thank you.”

Pete takes them and puts them on her so she can wear them. Rachael clutches them in her hand and squeezes gently. He'll always be with her. Always.

Pete guides her back to her chair. The ceremony ends with jets flying overhead. Rachael finds herself looking at the coffin again. He still feels so close, yet so far away.

As others break away and go off to greet others, Rachael walks back to the coffin. Once more she places her hand on top of it. She feels warm, the same warmth She used to get from him.

“I'm going to miss you every day. I can't believe you left me… but… I know I'm not going to be alone.” Rachael glances behind her at the group. “I'll never be alone.” She looks back at the coffin. “I'll be visiting often. You can't escape my company, even in death,” she smiles. “I love you, Tom. Always and forever.”

The Hard Deck is open, but only for the funeral. Penny made certain no one else could come in tonight. Drinks would be discounted, and she still had to make a living, you know. She had also prepared a wonderful buffet for everyone.

Rachael entered with Pete in tow. He got her a drink and she down half of it there and then.

“Slow down, sweetheart.”

“I needed it.”

He chuckles softly and keeps his arm around your shoulders as she thanks people who come over to her. Once she's alone again she sigh. “It feels weird.”

“Yeah…” He agrees.

“I can't believe he's gone.”

“Me either.”

Rachael and Pete share a look. So many words are spoken without being said. A huge part of their lives is gone.

“You know, he loved you more than life itself,” Pete says with a gentle tone.

“Yeah,” Rachael smiles. “I know. He made sure I knew it every day.”

They both chuckle.

“Life is going to feel weird for a while, but soon enough, we'll crack on as we always do. The world is still turning and we're still here. Believe me, that house will never be empty,” Pete grins.

“It never really was,” Rachael chuckles. “I couldn't have done any of this without all of you beside me. I never want to feel lonely, I never can be with you lot.”

“And that's how it should be.”

They both raise their glasses. “To Ice,” Mav says.

“To Tom,” she replies.

They drink in his honour.

Dragon without Ice is like a jigsaw with a piece that doesn't quite fit. She'll never be complete, but she'll also always be okay. She'll miss him for the rest of her life as there was no one quite like Tom Kazansky in her life. He was unique and wonderful and everything she could have wanted.

Now he's gone.

She'll be okay in time. She has a family beside her to keep her on her feet, and whenever she's feeling sad or lonely, they'll be right there to cheer her up.

The pain will never go away, but it will get easier to handle.

Goodbye, Tom Kazansky.

Goodbye, Val.

[midnight1nk]

So, this week's episode...

[Spoilers below cut]

I'm absolutely terrified, it's not even funny. I can't even click it. But I have to... for the LOREEEEEEEEE... okay, let's-a go....

(The following is my live reaction:)

ay the TADC plug, of course

"Born to shit, Forced to wipe" - not smg3

wise words Three

also, the Ferris Wheel and rollercoaster thing is still there in the background (Ferris Wheel wedding, my beloved...)

I knew someone was going to bring up Meggy and her disappearance

LEGGY! MEGGY, WE'LL RESCUE YOU I PROMISE!!!

THANK YOU THREE for asking the right questions here

oh... not what I expected. at least the crew knows this is obviously Mr Puzzles

NAME DROP

OK, a LOT to digest here:

These are all the possible minigames that we might see in WOTFI. Well, at least all the attractions we could see...

a Mr Puzzles Chonk plush (in the bottom right)

a Tunnel of Love attraction... hmmmm.......

Huh, I didn't know this was by the coast of the Mushroom Kingdom. Or it could be an island/peninsula.

The what now, Leggy?

YEP I knew that once they found out, they would want to leave

...and of course, Mario wants to stay

Yeah, Luigi said it himself

but also, look at the Mr Puzzles cardboard cutout in the back, he's wearing Meggy's cowboy hat from Western Spaghetti

Alright, but before we go in, we gotta have a buddy system, guys

All these critiques are going to make Mr Puzzles lose himself even more than he already is

I think I saw someone posted about submitting a water gun game so congrats for getting in!

Leggy Plush!!

also spider-man plush... symbiote... venom... GOOP!4????

...Once Upon A Perfect SMG4?

[*points at Four and Mario*] The sillies

ok, but like, why is Three smiling like that while everyone else looks so disappointed?

They did the buddy system!

Bob: "Those dumbasses will see ANYTHING and get excited."

I feel seen and I don't like it.

I don't like this either. I already know this is a trap but like noooooo

Three just standing there like a dad watching over his kid

Someone else also submitted a mini-game involving a ducky fishing game

GOD DAYUM.... why did you have to pose like that, Three? You're not beating the allegations, huh.

Aw, Three really wanted to enjoy a carnival if Mr Puzzles wasn't involved (writers, write that down + carnival dates)

OK NOPE WE NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE NOW

🫵 🏳️‍🌈⁉️

oh c'mon now, it's just plainly obvious. Not that it should be surprising, everyone's part of the skittle squad (tm)

STRONG WOMEN we love to see it

...that can't be a real thing... can it?

same Luigi same

YES PLEASE CAN WE?

sorry dude, they really locked in

also what the hell is that building in the back?

Luigi (or rather the SMG4 fandom): "See? I can handle this! I'm not afraid anymore! Do you hear me? I'm not afraid-" [*horror jumpscare*] [*scream*]

NOT EVEN MELONY'S GOD POWERS COULD HELP US, WE'RE FUCKED

NOOOOOO NOT KAREN AND SAIKO

THREE WE NEED TO LEAVE NOW

NOOOOOOOO THREEEEE I THOUGHT HE WAS GOING TO BE THE LAST ONE TO MAKE IT OUT

[*sobbing*] he sent one last text to warn them :( he really does care

AND HE SENT IT TO FOUR [*head in hands*]

the contact names they have for each other.... (I'm not well)

WE GOTTA GO [*runs*] GET OUT GET OUT

Leggy... why did your face change like that?

WHAT WAS THAT CRYPTIC CAPTION?!

Mario, please don't sacrifice yourself... oh, thank god! They really are having me panicking for the smallest things

wait... OMG THEY SAW MY SUBMISSION! THEY SAW IT!

the mini-game challenge that I submitted:

Pop & Whirl: Everyone gets a bag of popcorn. The winner must keep all of their popped kernels in their bag, without dropping a single one... while being chased around the carnival by a collapsed Ferris Wheel (Professor Layton style)!

I DON'T CARE IF IT DOESN'T HAPPEN AGAIN IN WOTFI, I'LL TAKE IT. But if it does happen, I'll draw lawyer Meggy with a redesigned Ace Attorney-esque outfit (somehow)

please don't tell me the green pipe is also a trap...

...the exit door from TADC?

oh god, why does this remind me of the dark web?

and the eyes on the mushrooms... [*IGBP flashbacks*]

heh heh, funny mirrors... AH SHIT PUZZLES, DON'T JUMPSCARE ME LIKE THAT

actually, now that I think of it, Mr Puzzles hasn't revealed himself this whole time...

THE DIDNEY ENGINE ROOM?!

...holy shit

so was I right about us getting to see Mr Puzzles' "truest form" and the whole "Eye of Ra" thing?

are those his arms? and the circle things, it could be part of his cyborg texture but they also look like eyes.

the fog part is really interesting because they could've gone with any "spooky" color but they chose this. It's the creative vision, the one Didney had in this room.

This really reminds me of the goo from IGBP and Wren's wire simulation in Western Spaghetti, but also from this angle, a bit of Zero's "no legs" body design.

"His obsession becoming his identity" - Puzzles connected himself to the single star Didney had. You got it right, past Ink.

HUH?! YOU CAN'T END IT THERE

AND THEY GRAY-ED OUT OUTRO, NO MUSIC! IT'S ABOUT TO GO DOWN, GUYS

also congrats to Nikej1708241 for making it to the credits 🎉

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

That was a pretty solid episode ngl. Probably not as "plot twist-y"

(i know that's not a word) as the previous episode but my spaghetti gods, it delivered! Not Marty again, we may have to rethink this one.

Ok, I've made a list of all the attractions and mini-games there are in the carnival grounds in Puzzle Park:

Ferris Wheel

"Tender Tunnel" (Tunnel of Love attraction)

Merry-Go-Round carousel

Basketball arcade game

Hammer game

Bumper Cars

"House of Crazy" funhouse (also that fits Mr Puzzles somehow)

A spooky cart ride

Water gun game

Rocket ride

Arcade (just flat-out an arcade)

Clown Ball Game

(There's apparently a cafe???)

Ducky Pond fishing game

Pizza shop (....marty?)

It's probably not all of them, we would just have to wait and see, but if you submitted a mini-game that involves any of these, congrats, you likely got in!!!

I still very much enjoyed this episode and some of what I theorized could possibly come true. And some didn't, which is totally okay with me. I'll cherish the Ferris Wheel chase scene regardless :)

We still have to wait for a trailer or a special video in regards to WOTFI, which I will have to analyze and see what's to be expected. From the looks of it in this episode, it seems like it's up to SMG4 and Mario to rescue their friends one by one by completing the mini-games. The more people they rescue, the more help they can get to complete the games. And that includes saving Meggy at the end.

Now, personally, I don't want Mr Puzzles to die. Not yet. There is still a lot of potential that could go for him. A similar redemption arc just as Three went through. Puzzlevision 2. Goop!4. Marty. Anything could happen. Then again, he could die.

Now you might think he might not die because he has a plushie, but there's literally merch of Axol and Desti and they're dead. Puzzles isn't safe from this possibility.

Put in your final bets, my dear fellows, because nothing will ever be the same again...

[yoredoesmore]

hii can i pls ask for an argument with hoshina and how u fixed everything after jsnshsbshsbs 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

a/n: thank you for your request (´∀｀)♡ this took longer than it should have, I apologize ╥﹏╥

pairing: hoshina soshiro x fem!reader

summary: a small misunderstanding turns into a huge argument.

genre: romance/hurt & comfort/jealousy/fluff |

[wc: 1,6k]

enjoy!

Kiss and Make Up | Hoshina Soshiro

You were mad, beyond pissed even. Your heart was beating in irregular motions and the irritation practically oozed off your face. The tension laid thick in the air as you and your boyfriend continued to ignore each other, sitting in complete silence in front of the television.

So many thoughts roamed your head– insults, counter arguments and statements, yet you refused to give the man another second of attention.

He has truly done it now.

“I'was just another celebration with the squad, nuttin that big of a deal. You would have known if you had come.” Hoshina slurred his words as he dragged his drunk self through the hallway of your shared apartment and into the bedroom.

“Bet that Okonogi was there too, right? That smartass wannabe who always seems to be in desperate need of your help.”

“Oh pwease, you're overreacting. Okonogi is not like that so stop bein so annoying.”

That last statement had sealed his fate (and almost earned him a slap in the face). Before you knew it, the two of you fell into a fully blown out fight that lasted through the entire night. Insults were dropped, his hands pushed you and yours shoved him as well.

“Why are you acting like this all of a sudden?! It's honestly so irritating!” Hoshina yelled out.

“Your stupidity is more irritating! Maybe if you stop being so full of your fucking self all the time and start using that brain of yours, you would see the issue at hand!” You snapped back.

Fights were uncommon in your relationship but when the two of you fought it was messy and draining. But most importantly, they stung.

Even after the night had fallen and sunshine arose, the atmosphere in your apartment still laid thick in the air. Half the day had passed and neither of you said anything to each other, until the both of you ended up in the living room at the same time. He was busy taking care of the cats (who had run into the wide space) while you were already sitting there, reading your favorite novel.

At first silence kept the situation at bay, neither of you forced to interact with one another, until a phone call broke the tranquil atmosphere.

“Your work phone, huh.” You said, eyes remaining on the book as you flipped to the next page. “Wonder who that could be.”

Hoshina refrained himself from answering your remark and quickly picked up the call. Although he had turned the loud speaker function off, you were able to hear a female voice from the other side.

“Yeah of course I can help, no need to thank me.” He hung up.

“Let me guess, little damsel in distress needs your help again?”

“That's enough, Y/n.” Hoshinas voice cut sharp through the room, silencing you temporarily, before you spoke up again.

“Don't talk about Okonogi like that, alright? She is a good friend and your coworker. Ya being so unreasonable.”

“I am being unreasonable?? Oh, I'm sorry for getting upset when my boyfriend spends more time with his good friend than his partner!” The book was no longer of any importance to you. You had tossed it while standing up from your seated position.

“How long has this been going on now?? Every other day she asks you to hang out or do this together or she needs help here and there. Are you fucking kidding me??”

“Oh please, look at the way you're acting, it's ridiculous! We work in the same department so of course we spend a lot of time together!”

It felt like your words went right past his ear and vice versa. Both of you were now standing right across from one another, anger evident on both your faces. Even the tension grew in size, swallowing up the entire space and forcing your cats to run out.

You hated the surge of anger that rushed through your body. Feeling this way, jealous and annoyed when the man who normally solved all your problems was right in front of you, it pained you deeply. In moments like these, all you wanted to do was break down and hide away, preferably in his arms, but that was not an option right now.

“You sure that's the only reason you spend so much time together? Because it sounded different a couple weeks ago.”

“A couple..what are you talking about??” Hoshina asked, genuinely confused. You broke your gaze, looking at the ground in hopes that the pressure would disappear.

“At the bar..don't act like you don't remember!” And without allowing him to even respond, you dashed into your room and knocked the door shut behind you. Your boyfriend simply stood there, unsure of how to react to this sudden change of events. A long sigh escaped his lips as he followed you into the room.

“Y/n..”

“Leave me alone!” Your head was buried deep into the pillow (the one on Hoshina's side). Tears had made it out of your eyes and you desperately wanted to hide them.

“What exactly did I say at the bar..please tell me.” The regret in Hoshina's tender voice did not go unnoticed by you. It tugged on your heart and only caused the pain to increase. You truly hated seeing him like this.

“You..you said that you like smart women..” Repeating those words from weeks ago now made you feel stupid. “When Kafka asked you what your type was..you said that you prefer smart women and then you..proceeded to look at Okonogi! She was sitting right next to Kafka, so maybe you were looking at him instead, I don't know, I was just as drunk but still!”

Hoshina stood in front of the bed, disbelief holding him back from talking. He could barely remember the events of that night, only that it involved too much alcohol. But hearing you say those words, with tears in your eyes and a broken voice, it made your boyfriend feel like shit.

“But I was obviously talking about you, love, You are smart” He said as he placed himself next to you on the bed, hands rubbing your back. “Wait..is that why you didn't join us in yesterday's get together?”

You nodded hesitantly.

“I am not smart, not at all. I work as a damn secretary for the Kaiju Hunters while Okonogi is a skilled woman who runs analysis and she is the Operations Leader. And not to mention, she is so pretty too.”

Up until now, Hoshina did not know that you were harboring such emotions. Your sudden confession left his mind blank, it was as if he had temporarily lost all thoughts due to the shock. You on the other hand couldn't have felt more embarrassed.

You had no right to go after Okonogi like that and blame her for your insecurities. But when Hoshina spoke those words and afterwards looked at her, you just felt too heated.

Moments like these made you wonder, why Hoshina refused to leave you. Unlike the other women in his life, you were hotheaded and emotional, pushing and shoving when someone messed with your feelings instead of talking it out.

Little did you know, that this was exactly what Soshiro liked about you. He loved you for being hotheaded and a tease, but also sweet and caring during the right moments. You were the perfect match for him and nothing could convince him otherwise.

“Y/n, don't you ever say that about yourself ever again. You are my smart, beautiful hotheaded woman, the woman I love and cherish. Plus it takes hella brain to work as a secretary, especially for those jerks.” Soshiro placed his hands on your shoulders, pulling you back up into a seated position.

Your eyes were slightly puffy and a soft frown pulled on your lips.

“I'm sorry for not expressing myself clearly enough and for making it seem like I prefer Okonogi to you. You are the one I love and care about, I promise.”

“But..but I am so mean to everyone and to you as well, Soshiro.” Hoshina's words had touched your heart and caused the tears to resurface, even though they never truly left.

“Plus I get jealous way too easily and don't..I'm just too..” You hiccupped.

“Shh, there there. I don't wanna hear none of that, you hear me?” Your boyfriend wrapped one arm around your waist while the other patted your head. A soft kiss found its way on your cheek, drawing a pout from your lips.

“I'm sorry Soshiro, for being so irritating. You are a great friend and coworker to Okonogi and you are a true blessing for constantly helping her out. I shouldn't get jealous over that." Hoshina smiled and placed another kiss on your face, this time on your lips. It felt sweet and comforting, you wished it could have lasted forever.

“And I'm sorry for being so stupid.”

You pulled him into a tight hug, the sweet scent of his body filling your nose. The hug lasted quite long, as long as you both needed it to, and it patched up all the wounds that were still left open by the argument. As you pulled away, you gazed into each other's eyes, losing yourself temporarily.

“Lucky for you, I love my women slightly irritating.” He joked.

“And I like my men stupid.”

“Hey!”

The both of you laughed, the content of the argument already forgotten.

a/n: i know its not obvious at all but i was actually going for a hori x miyamura type of relationship

(͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) (do we as a society still use this emoticon?)

i just love hori’s and miyamura's dynamic, they could never make me hate them! plus i wholeheartedly believe that Hoshina needs a partner who is more emotional/teasing than him so he can be sure that his attitude is handled ^^

[dandylovesturtles]

this is a brain worm that spawned as soon as I read the second injury prompt, bad future timeline, from the prospective of someone outside the family (civilian, fellow resistance fighter, etc), where one of the brothers/april/or either of the casey’s are injured, “Someone get the medic. Get the medic!” and the medic is leo, unknowingly responding to a gravely injured loved one

shit this is a good prompt anon, thanks

credit to @promptsbytaurie for the injury ask meme!

cw: ROTTMNT bad timeline, mentions of blood and injury

———

He finds her leaned against some rubble, the carcasses of four krang hounds strewn around her. They don’t bleed like earth creatures, but the stringy bits of their mutilated bodies are strewn across the ground, and all he can think is, Good.

There is blood, though: her blood, gushing from a set of lacerations in her side. She’s so still that he thinks, for one awful minute, that she’s dead.

Then she shifts and groans and he stumbles quickly to her side, dropping to his knees and putting pressure on the wound, the way he was taught in ROTC a million years ago.

She sucks in a breath, gritting her teeth, and then her eyes open. They rove the battlefield with a dazed confusion, and he wonders if that’s a concussion or just the blood loss. Or both.

“Commander O’Neil,” he says urgently. “We need to move you.”

Her head turns and her searching eyes find his face. She blinks rapidly and squints at his face.

“Who…?”

He smiles, because it’s a kindness he can give her. Kids in school used to make fun of his buck teeth. Weird how an alien invasion makes some things easier. “Jake West. I joined your squad last week.”

“Oh, right.” She grunts and starts to shift. “New guy. Help me up, will you?”

Jake shakes his head. “I don’t think you can walk with that wound.”

“Well, I’m not letting you carry me out of here like some damsel in distress,” she says stubbornly. She slings an arm over his shoulders, gritting her teeth. Her brow is sweating, but she repeats, “Help me up.”

Jake’s only been part of this resistance colony for two weeks, since the tattered remnants of his last group was found by one of their scouting parties, but he already has a lot of respect for O’Neil. She’s a foot shorter than him, but she embodies toughness in the set of her shoulders and her refusal to back down. She’s more fearsome than most of the old military guys Jake’s ever met.

So he helps her up.

She stumbles when she’s on her feet, and he moves in to keep supporting her. The blood drips down her side, and she hisses when she sees it.

“Can’t believe I let those hounds get a piece of me. Dee’s gonna be insufferable.”

Jake wonders who “Dee” is, but doesn’t ask. They have to get out of here - the onslaught may have calmed for the moment, but the krang always come back.

O’Neil can’t move very quickly - Jake finds himself dragging her more than he helps her walk. He suggests carrying her again and she turns it down, though only with a shake of her head this time. They stumble through the rubble in mostly silence, making for the base’s hidden entrance.

Above their heads, there is a noise like a sonic boom, a streak of orange lighting up the sky as it goes past, latching onto an approaching krang drone ship and pulling it out of the sky.

“There goes Mikey,” says O’Neil, without even looking up.

Right; Master Michelangelo, one of the turtles. Jake had felt a little trepidation, when he had first learned this resistance group was full of - and even run by - inhuman mutants.

Then he’d seen what they could do, and that feeling faded fast.

He hasn’t actually met the turtles, only ever seen them in passing. He’s heard from those have been here longer that they’re actually really friendly, or at least all of them but Master Donatello are. More importantly, they put their lives on the line every day for what remains of the people of earth. Jake hasn’t needed to be here more than a few weeks to see that.

They fight like they have everything to lose. Jake respects that.

Master Michelangelo’s cover makes the trip back to the base easier, even as O’Neil flags more and more against his side. By the end he’s carrying her whether she wants it or not, draped half across his back in a fireman’s hold. She’s too out of it now to object. He hopes that doesn’t mean he’s too late. He’s so tired of losing people, even those he hasn’t known long. He likes Commander O’Neil.

He stumbles through the tunnel and into the bright synthetic lights of the entry checkpoint. Most combatants have already returned by now, but there are still people milling around, checking for any signs of krang infection in those coming back.

“Someone get the medic!” he hollers as he enters. “Get the medic!”

There’s a few echoing shouts, and then a door flings open and out walks Master Leonardo himself. He’s wearing a makeshift surgical apron, covered in blood, gloves, and a mask hanging loose around his neck. Jake’s never seen him this close, and now he’s a little taken aback, the way the turtle towers over everyone, moving so lithely despite the bulk of his shell, a commanding but easy air to his presence that seems to demand respect but also offer reassurance to everyone else in the room.

Every time Jake’s seen him from afar, he’s been grinning, laughing, smiling. He isn’t now.

“Don’t yell unless someone’s dying,” he says, eyes scanning the room until his gaze locks with Jake’s. He sees the body slumped across Jake’s back and grimaces. “I need to learn to keep my mouth shut.”

He crosses the room and directs Jake toward one of the cots. “Alright, put ‘em on the triage bed and let’s see what we’re working with.”

“Lacerations, sir,” says Jake, as he lowers O’Neil to the cot. “She was conscious when I found her, but she’s lost a lot of blood. Maybe a concussion.”

He trails off as he turns back and sees Master Leonardo’s state. His eyes are locked on O’Neil’s face, like he’s only just recognized who it is on the cot. His mouth hangs slightly open, and there’s an open, vulnerable devastation, a naked fear on his face. One Jake recognizes too well.

Even the mutants, with all their powers and all their strength, can be afraid.

Then, just like that, he pulls it together again for a fleeting glimpse Jake saw Leonardo, but now the Master is back, and barking orders.

“Marta!” he calls, turning his head to address a woman standing at the inspection line. “Prep OR now! And get us ready for a blood transfusion- B positive if we have it.”

“On it,” says Marta, and she’s gone just like that. Jake turns his attention back to Leonardo, who has taken O’Neil’s wrist in his, feeling for a pulse.

He’s quiet for several seconds, then he nods to himself and starts asking questions.

“Any idea what did this?”

“It was hounds, sir. I found her with several dead ones.”

“Sounds about right.” Master Leonardo sounds almost amused, though he doesn’t stop his work. “Any sign of infection?”

“No. She was talking and able to walk most of the way.”

Krang infections take over the host so quickly, they would know by now, with a wound like that.

“Hounds can only infect with their bites, and these look like scratches from claws.” Leonardo comes out again, as he reaches for O’Neil’s hand and gives it a squeeze. “Knew you wouldn’t let them get a bite in.”

The way he looks at O’Neil is so tender. They clearly know each other, and not just as fellow resistance commanders. Jake can’t help but wonder how they know each other; how a human and a mutant came to have a bond this close.

He doesn’t have time to ask, of course. Seconds later, O’Neil is being moved to OR, and Leonardo is making to follow them.

“Sir!” Jake calls after him. “Is there anything else I can do to help the commander?”

Master Leonardo barely pauses. “Get yourself checked for infection, and donate blood if you can. Then get some rest. You’ve done enough today.” He glances over his shoulder. “And stop calling me ‘sir’. Makes me feel so old.”

Then he’s gone.

Jake watches the door Leonardo just disappeared through for a second, then moves to do as he was told. He thinks about the way Master Leonardo looked at Commander O’Neil. Like she was part of what he was fighting not to lose.

And he thinks, maybe, that they’re lucky here. That this just might be the resistance that saves the world.

[jetii]

Event Horizon

Chapter Thirty-Four: Fault Lines

Chapter WC: 13,262

Chapter Tags/Warnings: this chapter is 50% awkward flirting and teasing and the other 50% is arguing and scene setting and existential dread

A/N: Point of order for military stuff that's happening in these next couple chapters: the 501st is typically referred to in canon as a battalion. I'm making some assumptions that they grow to the size of a legion by the end of the war, though they're still a battalion by the time the Umbara arc happens according to canon. Yes, it's a kids show and they play it pretty fast and loose with the terms but I can't stomach ambiguity SO! At this point, the 501st is a battalion.

A legion is the same thing as a brigade. Goldie and Booker as Senior Commander lead the 419th Brigade, which is comprised of 4 regiments or 16 battalions, or up to 9,216 troops total. Just to give you an idea of size. I spent forever building her army and naval forces, and I could keep yapping but that’s not what we’re here for lol enjoy the chapter 🫡

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Duro, 20 BBY

Duro is an industrial world, and not one you'd ever desired to visit. It's a grim, polluted planet, with few natural resources and an atmosphere thick with pollution. The factories that litter the landscape are a testament to the greed and avarice of the corporations who own them, and the few workers left to maintain them are often treated little better than slaves. The planet's only saving grace is the flotilla of orbital cities, floating above the surface, where the majority of the inhabitants live.

There's an air of desperation down here on the surface, a sense of hopelessness, and it's not hard to see why. The Duro have wrung every last drop of profit from their world, stripping it bare and leaving nothing but ruins. They're a race in decline, clinging to their fading legacy with grim determination.

The Republic has managed to maintain control of the planet with a small garrison of troops stationed at a posting called the Equatorial Communications Hub. The hub is a series of towers, each housing a relay connected to the orbital cities by a network of repulsorlift tubes. It's an ugly building that juts out like a spike amongst the ruins in the distance, its white exterior stark against the dark sky, and the Republic's flag flies proudly from the top.

You look around as your gunship flies over the factories and the crumbling buildings streaking past below. It's an eerie sight, a ghost town, and it's easy to imagine how much worse the situation could become if the Separatists gain a foothold. You can't help but think of Nadiem, the image of the burned, bombed-out buildings and the piles of rubble fresh in your mind. The same thing could happen here, if the 501st and your forces aren't successful.

"It's a damn wasteland," Wise calls out over the hum of the gunship's engines. He leans over, glancing down at the row of factories, his face pinched with distaste. "What a shithole."

"Remind me why we have to land here?" Snap asks from the copilot's seat, bracing his arm against the cockpit as the ship rocks violently. "It looks like it's gonna blow up at any secon—hey! Watch it!"

"I'm trying," Dash snaps, his eyes focused on the controls. He eases the ship around a smoking tower, narrowly avoiding a collision, and the squad lets out a collective sigh of relief. “You try flying in this mess and see how you do, okay?"

"Someone's touchy today," Screwball observes from the back of the ship. He's fiddling with his rocket launcher, inspecting the charge and checking the power level. "You get up on the wrong side of the bed, little brother?"

"Oh, fuck off," Dash mutters, and you can't help but smile as he shoots Screwball a look of annoyance that translates through his helmet. "I'm trying not to get us killed. So maybe focus on that instead of harassing me."

Screwball opens his mouth to retort, but Wise clears his throat, his voice booming over the comm.

"Enough," he commands, and the two of them fall silent. "Save it for the clankers."

Screwball nods, turning his attention back to his weapon. Dash sighs, and you reach out, resting a hand on his shoulder. He's been tense since the battle on Nadiem, the strain showing in the tightness of his shoulders and the weariness in his eyes.

He's not the only soldier who's been affected, though. The rest of the men are tired too, the months spent in and out of combat without respite having taken a toll. They're all dealing with it in their own ways, but for some, the burden has been harder to bear.

Snap is usually the most laid-back member of the squad, but you've noticed that even he has become more serious, his usual jokes and quips replaced by grim silence. Wise has been snapping at everyone, and Screwball seems to be constantly on the verge of a breakdown, oscillating between bouts of manic energy and depressive moods. And Dash...well, he's just exhausted. He's been working twice as hard to cover for his brothers, and it's not going unnoticed.

“You’re doing well,” you murmur, and Dash nods, his hands tightening on the controls. You can see the faint tremors in his fingers, the result of too many hours awake, and you sigh.

You've barely had any sleep yourself, your dreams haunted by visions of destruction and death. The images are getting clearer, more detailed, and they're becoming harder and harder to ignore. You're no closer to understanding them, and it's been an exhausting effort.

But the Force is telling you that it's important. It’s giving you the tools, the warnings, and you have to trust that it will show you the way. Even if it means sacrificing your sleep and your sanity.

And, hopefully, this time, it'll be worth it.

“Really,” you insist. You squeeze his shoulder, trying to convey the sincerity of your words. "I know it hasn't been easy, but you're doing a great job. I'm impressed."

"Thanks," he mumbles, his head dipping forward. You can't see his face, but you can sense his relief. He relaxes for a moment until the ship shudders as a gust of wind buffets it, the hull groaning in protest, and his spine stiffens. “I think I'm getting better at this flying thing.”

"I'll say," you remark, watching as he guides the ship around a towering factory billowing smoke into the air. "It's been, what, two months since you've had a crash?"

He snorts, and you know he's rolling his eyes, though he’d never do that in front of you directly. 

“I’m serious,” you laugh and pat his shoulder. “Keep this up, and I might even let you fly my fighter.”

“Really?”

His head snaps towards you, and his voice is so hopeful that you can't help but smile.

You've spent a lot of time with the clones under your command over the past few months, and it's a privilege to see their personalities come to the fore, to watch them evolve into individuals, rather than just identical soldiers.

Dash has been particularly receptive to your efforts. His eagerness to learn and his natural affinity for technology has made him Maelstrom Company's de facto pilot under Snap, and the responsibility has allowed him to step out of his brothers' shadows and into his own. And as he's grown, so has his confidence. You've watched him go from a nervous, shy kid to a capable soldier, and you're proud of the progress he's made.

And he's not the only trooper who's improved. The rest of the squad have made similar strides, and you've seen them all blossom, each man finding his own niche within the 419th and discovering his strengths and weaknesses. It makes you a bit sentimental, and a lot proud. They've become more than just soldiers, and you’re well aware that you’ve grown attached, far more than you probably should be.

It's something you never expected, at least not to this extent. You'd never wanted a command of your own, never wanted to be a general, content to let Obi-Wan do all the leading and all the commanding.  And the idea of being responsible for so many lives had scared you, especially considering your past. You'd had no choice in the matter, and you'd accepted your role with a sense of resignation. 

But as the weeks and months had passed, you'd slowly come to realize that it wasn't the burden you'd expected. It wasn't easy, not by a long shot, and the losses and the deaths weighed heavily on you. But there was something rewarding about the work, a sense of purpose and a sense of accomplishment. You were able to help people, and make friends while doing it, and that was something you could get used to.

"Maybe," you say, giving Dash a playful smile. "We'll see."

He chuckles and returns his focus to the controls, his shoulders squared with determination. The ship shudders again, and you brace yourself against the wall as the viewport fills with a haze of grey. The men curse and complain, their voices rising over the roar of the engines, and you bite your lip, fighting the urge to snap at them.

Dash guides the ship into a sharp turn, the engines whining in protest. The turbines kick in before the ship levels out again. You all breathe out a sigh of relief.

“Sir, we’ve got movement on the ground, coming from the eastern quadrant of the city," Snap reports. A squadron of droids lumbers through the empty streets in the distance, heading towards the hub. "Looks like an entire company, at least."

You study the group, watching as the droids march in formation. They're moving quickly, and you can see the blaster bolts flashing as they fire into the windows of the surrounding buildings. Your intel suggests this part of the city has long since been abandoned, but it doesn't seem to stop the droids from continuing their attack.

"There's no civilians there, right?" you ask warily.

"No sir," Snap confirms. "All civilians were relocated to the orbital platforms, and the area was deemed secure."

"I'm going to make a low pass," Dash announces. "Check for heat signatures."

You nod, and Dash pushes the controls, dropping the ship towards the city below. He's careful in his movements, weaving between the towering shells of factories and the crumbling remnants of the city's infrastructure. 

The men around you lean forward, watching intently, their eyes fixed on the droids. The gunship drops lower until its belly skims the rooftops of the lower buildings, and the droids come into focus, the dim sunlight glinting off their metal plating.

“I’m not picking up any organics," Snap reports, studying the scanner. “We should—“

The radio crackles, and a voice cuts in.

“Gunship 2899, this is 501st Captain Rex, what is your location? Over.”

The men exchange a glance, and you lean over, bracing on Dash's shoulder as you activate the comm.

"This is General Anathorn," you answer. "We are inbound to the rendezvous point. What's your status, Captain?"

“Engaging enemy forces, General,” Rex replies, his voice crackling through the speakers. “Care to join us?”

You can't help but smile, and the men chuckle, shaking their heads. You feel a flutter of excitement, the anticipation of seeing Rex again causing your heart to beat a little faster. You've missed him more than you'd ever expected, and the thought of being together, fighting side by side, it fills you with a sense of relief that’s almost staggering.

It'll be good to have him back. And even better to fight beside him.

"I think we can manage that," you answer, and Rex's answering chuckle echoes through the cabin. 

Behind you is a chorus of groans and gagging noises, and you turn, glaring at the rest of the men. They pretend not to notice, staring studiously out the viewport or checking their weapons. You roll your eyes, and the comm crackles, Rex's voice ringing out once more.

"Copy that, sir," he says, his voice betraying his smile.

"See you soon, Captain," you murmur.

“Looking forward to it.”

The line cuts out in a burst of static, and you step back, trying not to look too eager. You cross your arms, clearing your throat, and turn to face the men. You can feel their barely-contained amusement through the Force, and you try to ignore the flush of heat creeping up your neck.

"Don't say a word," you warn, but it’s too late. The cabin explodes with laughter and cheers, and you groan, pinching the bridge of your nose.

It's good-natured, and they mean well, but it's still embarrassing.

You'd thought you'd been subtle in hiding your affection for Rex, but it was becoming increasingly apparent that your efforts had been futile. More than once, the men have caught you messaging and comming him, and their reactions have ranged from concern to bemusement to downright delight. They'd always seemed supportive, even approving, but their behavior as the hours counted down until your reunion has turned their teasing from gentle ribbing into outright harassment.

They were enjoying this, and you weren't sure how to feel about it. There were so many things that could go wrong, so many ways this could end badly if you decided to actually do something about the feelings you've harbored for the clone captain. So much could go wrong. 

But at the same time, there was an ache inside, a longing, and it was getting harder and harder to ignore. And with the way the men were behaving, you were beginning to think it might be okay to act on those feelings. At least a little. If the opportunity arose. Maybe.

"Sir, permission to speak freely?" Screwball asks, his voice thick with laughter.

"Denied," you mutter, and the men snicker.

Snap covers his mouth, his shoulders shaking with barely-contained laughter, before his shoulders finally straighten. "What's the plan, General?"

"The plan is to land, kill every single droid in our path, and save the Republic," you answer. You cross your arms, trying to hide your embarrassment, and give them a pointed look. "Any questions?"

A few hands raise. You roll your eyes.

"Any questions not about my personal life?"

They put their hands down, and you nod.

"Good."

The gunship banks, and the men brace themselves as it drops towards the street below, weaving through buildings and dodging explosions erupting from the ground. Screwball and another trooper slide open the doors before they kneel and arm their rocket launchers, two troopers poised on either side to provide cover. You can see flashes of light in the distance, and the distinctive boom of exploding ordnance echoes through the cabin.

A group of droids rounds the corner in formation, firing at the approaching gunship. The rockets launch, streaking towards the droids, and the resulting explosion is deafening, a cloud of smoke billowing out and engulfing the street. The men cheer as the ship rockets through the plume and joins two more of your gold-painted gunships, the trio descending in a wedge formation.

“Focus on the tanks,” you order over the comms. "Scramble the fighters and begin aerial strikes. Let's try to minimize the damage."

You look out the open door and watch as the three ships separate, each flying along a different trajectory. The droids in the distance are a sea of black and gray, their blasters flashing as they return fire. You can see the blue armor of the 501st slowly advancing, the clones moving in formation and using the cover of the buildings to their advantage. Your eyes roam the field, and your breath catches as you finally catch a glimpse of the one you’re searching for.

Before you can overthink your decision, you step up to the open doors and unclip your lightsabers from your belt. A cool breeze blows past your face, ruffling your hair and tugging at the sleeves of your robes, and the scent of smoke fills your nose. 

"Cover me," you order.

Screwball lets out a quiet chuckle. "You got it, sir."

He readies his rocket launcher, aiming at the nearest group of droids, and fires. The missile soars through the air, and the droids are engulfed in a flash of orange and red, the explosion rocking the ship. 

You take a deep breath, centering yourself, and close your eyes. And then, you leap.

The wind rushes past your ears as you plummet, your body arcing gracefully through the air. You land in a crouch and ignite your sabers, deflecting the bolts that fly in your direction before you push out, sending a shockwave that knocks the nearest droids off their feet.

You sprint forward, closing the distance, and slash through the droids, cutting them down with a flurry of strikes. The metal parts clatter to the ground, and the droids fall, their circuits sparking and sputtering.

A gunship swoops down and fires down at the droids, and you take advantage of the distraction, sprinting through the street and cutting down the machines in your path.

“You really know how to make an entrance," a voice calls from behind you as a familiar warmth blooms in the back of your mind.

A thrill runs through you, and you turn and find Rex approaching, his pistols drawn and firing rapidly. He ducks and weaves, his shots finding their targets, and the droids collapse in a heap of scrap.

"I was trying to impress you,” you shout back. "Did it work?"

"Mission accomplished," he jokes. You block another shot, and he takes a step closer, covering your flank. The two of you stand back-to-back, a familiar position, and you can't help but grin. It's good to have him at your side again.

"You seem to be doing well," you remark as your squad disembarks from the gunships, landing in the midst of the battle. They fan out among the 501st, forming ranks and returning fire. "How are things here?"

“Just another day at the office,” Rex quips, and you snort, rolling your eyes. He takes down two droids with two precise shots and tilts his helmet toward you. “Your boys been behaving?"

"As well as can be expected," you reply. You throw your blade, impaling a droid, and it slumps to the ground. You catch the blade as it returns to your hand and twirl, deflecting a blast and slicing through another droid. "Though they've been getting a little out of hand lately."

"Out of hand, huh?" he asks. His tone is curious, but you can sense the hint of worry in the back of your mind.

"Nothing I can't handle," you assure him. "They're just teasing."

"Teasing?" he repeats, and the question is heavy with implications. "What about?"

"Nothing," you say quickly. A little too quickly. "Just...nothing."

You're saved from further questioning by a sudden barrage of blaster fire. You duck and roll behind the nearest cover, Rex following suit. You both kneel, peering around the corner. A tank sits at the center of the battlefield, firing relentlessly, and you sigh, rubbing your temples. There's a headache coming on.

"What are the odds that you're going to let me deal with the tank while you stay here?" you ask. Rex shakes his head, and you huff, unsurprised. "I didn't think so."

"No, but thanks for asking this time," he retorts, and you can hear the smirk in his voice.

"Fine," you mumble. "Any other ideas?"

Rex gives a nod, tapping the side of his helmet. "Yeah. Just give me a minute."

His attention turns back to the battle, and you take the opportunity to study him, his armor and the lines of his helmet. The familiar jaig eyes emblazoned on the front of his helmet are freshly painted, the only similarity between this set of armor and his old one besides the blue pauldron. 

You’ve grown used to seeing the phase two clone armor among your troops, but to see it on him feels strange. It's a reminder that the war has changed, and that the men, the clones, are evolving too.

But despite the new armor and the fresh paint, it's still him. Still Rex. You can feel his presence, his mind, his emotions. And you can feel his affection, a warmth in his aura that radiates from him and seeps into your own. He's clearly happy to see you, and the knowledge of it eases the doubts in your mind, soothing the fears you've harbored.

The war has taken its toll, but he's still here, and he's still yours.

Rex notices your stare and turns towards you, a question in the tilt of his head. You don't bother to hide the fact that you're looking him over, and he clears his throat.

"What?" he asks, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. 

You reach out and touch the side of his helmet, your thumb running along the line where the old fascia plating meets the new. Rex goes still with a slight intake of breath, his hands tightening around his blasters.

"This looks good," you tell him as your hand drifts down, touching the side of his chest plate over his ribs. There's another welded seam where the plastoid plates are joined, the edges smooth and polished. "Did you weld this yourself?"

"Yeah, uh, yeah. I did," he answers, his voice strained. He shifts slightly under your scrutiny, his emotions fluttering like a bird caught in a net. "Too attached to the old look, I guess."

"Well, I'm glad you're still you," you tease as your hand falls back to the hilt of your lightsaber. You shrug a shoulder and turn, looking out over the field. “I’ll miss the old pauldron, though.”

Rex lets out a huff of laughter, his shoulders relaxing slightly.

“You can try to stab me again, leave your mark on this one too," he jokes, gesturing to the blue pauldron jutting out from his shoulder. "If it'll make you feel better."

"Don't tempt me."

Before either of you can say anything more, a sudden blast erupts. The ground shudders as the tank's shell explodes, sending a plume of smoke into the air. You both turn and peer around the edge of your cover, and you're surprised to find a crater where the tank once stood, its metal shell shredded and its engines smoking.

"Huh," you mutter. "Guess we don't have to do anything after all."

"Looks like the boys are enjoying themselves," Rex chuckles, nodding towards the group of 501st and the 419th as they charge the droids. "We should probably get in there."

"Right behind you, Captain," you reply, and the two of you emerge from cover.

You leap across the street, and the battle is on. The droids are already scrambling to regroup, but their efforts are futile. Your squads close ranks, firing on the enemy with practiced precision. At your side, Rex picks off the stragglers while you deflect the bolts that fly in his direction, using the Force and your blades to guide their trajectory away from his armor.

Within minutes, the field is littered with metal parts and smoking wreckage. The 501st cheer as they take down the final droid, and you sheathe your lightsabers, watching the men celebrate.

Rex holsters his blasters and leans against the pile of debris, breathing heavily. His helmet tilts towards you, and a breathless laugh escapes his lips as you join him, resting your back against the same chunk of rock. The two of you look out over the field, the silence broken by the occasional burst of cheering and laughter.

"It's good to see you," he says softly.

"It's good to see you too," you reply, your tone fond, and you reach out and lay a hand on his arm. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he answers. He lifts his hand, his fingers curling around yours. "Just tired."

“Liar,” you tease, giving him a small smile, and he huffs a laugh.

"Maybe a little," he admits. Rex's thumb traces a small circle on the back of your hand, and you lean closer, pressing your shoulder against his. "Things have been rough lately. I've missed having you around."

"Yeah," you agree. You turn towards him, and the two of you face each other, the silence heavy with words unsaid. "Me too."

The moment stretches, and Rex's free hand reaches up and removes his helmet, tucking it under his arm. His blond hair is damp with sweat, his cheeks flushed, and his eyes are tired, but the affection in them is unmistakable. It's a look you're familiar with, and the sight of it never fails to make your heart skip a beat.

"So," he begins, his mouth curving into a smile. "You want to tell me what's going on with your boys?"

You groan and close your eyes, and Rex chuckles, shaking his head. You can feel his eyes on you, studying your face, and you can't help but flush a little under the intensity of his gaze.

"Is it that bad?" he asks, and you can hear the concern in his voice. "Is someone giving you trouble? Booker should know better."

"It's not like that," you say, opening your eyes and meeting his. He frowns, his expression thoughtful, and you sigh. "I'll tell you later. We've got work to do."

"If you're sure," he says, his brow furrowing.

"I'm sure," you insist, and you push off the wall. The rest of the troops are approaching, the 501st and 419th converging in the middle of the field. Your men greet their brothers, and a small crowd forms, the 501st exchanging handshakes and friendly ribbing with your men. Fives is among them, and he greets the members of the 419th like they're old friends, clapping them on the back and laughing.

You're happy to see the camaraderie between the two squads, and it's nice to see the 501st mingling with your troops. Rex is at the center of it all, trying to maintain some semblance of order, but his attempts are halfhearted at best. He's smiling, a wide grin, and you can't help but stare.

The 419th had never gotten much interaction with the rest of the army before, and it had made for a lonely experience. You've been in the Outer Rim for over three months, trudging through jungles and swamps and the occasional desert. But rarely have you done so with another army nearby. You'd often wondered if the isolation was on purpose, or if the 419th had simply fallen through the cracks. Whatever the case, the result had been the same, and you're grateful that the situation has changed.

You watch them all with a small smile, your thumb and forefinger pressed to the bridge of your nose in an attempt to stave off the headache building in your skull.

It's going to be a long afternoon.

"General!" Fives calls, catching your attention. He waves at you with a bright grin. "Over here!"

You roll your eyes, but join him anyway, the others clearing a path for you. The men stand to attention as you approach, and Fives gives a lazy salute. 

"Good to see you, sir," he greets. "Been awhile."

"At ease," you tell him, and the men relax, dropping their hands. You give his shoulder a pat. "How are things? Everyone holding up?"

"We're hanging in there," Fives answers. You tilt your head, trying to get a read on his emotions, and he seems...happy, his aura calm and unbothered. You're relieved. Fives has had a rough go of things lately, and you're happy to see him looking well.

"Good. We're glad to have you," you say.

"We're glad to have you too, sir. We missed you," he replies. There's a teasing note to his voice, and his grin widens, his eyes glittering with mischief. He glances at Rex. "Some of us more than others."

There's a chorus of snickers, and you fight the urge to groan as Rex stiffens. The teasing has officially begun.

"Thanks, Fives," you mutter, and he just shrugs, unfazed by the dryness of your tone. Rex, on the other hand, is practically radiating embarrassment. It's kind of cute.

"Hey, no problem, sir," Fives replies, a cocky smirk on his lips. He steps forward, and a low, conspiratorial murmur fills the space. "He's been insufferable, by the way."

Rex's face pinches in annoyance. "Fives."

"He's been moping, sir," Fives continues, ignoring his captain. "He wouldn't stop complaining about the comm traffic."

"Fives." Rex's tone is a warning, and Fives turns, raising his hands in surrender.

"Hey, I'm just trying to help," he defends.

"Well, stop helping," Rex snaps. The 419th all exchange knowing looks, the 501st snickering amongst themselves, and he sighs. "Let's just...get back to work, shall we?"

"Yes, sir," Fives responds, and he shoots you a wink. "We'll see you later, General."

He gives a quick salute and turns on his heel, marching off with the rest of the 501st. They break apart, the clones heading towards their various squads and companies, and Rex gives you one final look before heading off to rejoin them. You can't help but watch him walk away, and the men of the 419th all chuckle, nudging each other and smirking.

"Get moving," you order, and they salute, heading towards the command post and their assigned duties. You sigh and follow after them, wondering how many times you can repeat the same words before they'll listen.

As the two armies make the trek toward the hub, the city stretches out around you, a sea of gray buildings and smoke-belching factories. The sun is low in the sky, and the air is filled with the haze of pollution, a thick blanket of smog hanging low over the buildings. 

It's a depressing sight, and you can't help but notice the destruction. Broken windows and scorched walls, shattered glass and twisted metal, and the occasional skeleton of a destroyed tank or an abandoned transport. It's a graveyard, and the thought causes a sharp pang in your chest. This planet was already dying, and the war is only accelerating the process.

The Republic and the Separatists are little better than the corporations that have stripped Duro bare. They've come to pillage and plunder, to take what they can and leave nothing behind. And they're destroying a planet that was already struggling. A planet that could have been saved, had they been wiser.

But these are thoughts for another day.

You're tired, and your mind is foggy, the exhaustion of the past weeks catching up to you. You're still feeling the effects of the visions, the strain of using the Force and the toll of the sleepless nights, and it's hard to focus. Your steps are sluggish, and the ache in your head has returned, a dull throb behind your eyes.

The men notice, of course, and they give you concerned glances. Without speaking, Snap drops back and takes Booker's usual place at your side. The two of you fall in step, and he clears his throat.

"The rest of the men just arrived at the hub," he says quietly, his hand finding your elbow, steadying you. "I had Dash fly ahead. He said the comms are a mess. Apparently there was some kind of power failure earlier today, and they haven't been able to restore service. He thinks the Separatists are jamming the signal to the flotillas."

"And the fleet," you guess, and he nods. You sigh. You're starting to regret the lack of sleep. You'd been so focused on the mission, trying to compensate for Booker’s absence, and now, you're paying the price. You stifle a yawn, blinking the exhaustion away. "How are Anakin and Ahsoka?"

"Eager to get started," Snap answers. He guides you around a piece of debris, careful not to jostle you too much. "They want to start a recon mission tonight."

"Of course they do." You rub your eyes and lean further into his hold. "I don't know about you, but I could use some rest before we go chasing after any more droids."

"Agreed, sir," Snap replies, his grip tightening on your elbow. "Let's take it easy, okay?"

"Okay."

It's quiet, and you can tell the men are listening in, even as they try to pretend otherwise. Their concern is almost stifling, their auras full of worry and affection, and it's hard not to be overwhelmed.

You know that they care about you. It's not a new realization. But it's still a strange feeling, being surrounded by people who are invested in your wellbeing. You'd only just recently gotten used to Booker's constant worrying, his hovering and the way he seemed to know your moods better than you did. And now, he's not here, and the role has been passed on to Snap, who seems to have taken it upon himself to be your self-appointed caretaker.

You can't really blame him. You know you haven't been yourself lately, and the fact that you've been neglecting your own health is something you can't ignore.

It's just hard to remember, sometimes.

"Wise said he has something for you, if you want," Snap tells you. "For the headache."

"He always does," you sigh. You glance up at him, studying his expression, and he tilts his head, waiting patiently. "Is he mad?"

"He's Wise," Snap says, and you can't help but snort. That's a yes. "He'll get over it."

"He's worried about you," Screwball chimes in from behind you. "He always is. That's just how he is."

"I'm fine," you protest. They both gives you pointed looks, and you relent, sighing. "Okay. Maybe not fine. But I will be."

"You should have said something sooner," Screwball scolds, and the men around him nod. "We could have helped."

"I know," you admit. 

You're not sure what else to say. They've given up so much for you already. You're not sure how to tell them that they've already done more than you could ever ask for. They've followed every order, every command. They've trusted your judgment, even though it's led to countless close calls and far too many brushes with death. They've taken your extra training in stride without complaint. And they've become more than soldiers. They're your friends, and you know how lucky you are.

"It's just a headache," you tell him. "Nothing to worry about."

Screwball doesn't look convinced, but Snap gives him a stern look, the two of them having some kind of silent conversation. They share a nod, and Screwball falls back, rejoining the others. Snap releases his grip on your elbow and slings an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close.

"Come on," he mutters. "Almost there.”

Your men are quiet for the rest of the journey, and the streets are empty, save for a stray droid here and there. The clones make quick work of them without you ever having to raise a hand, and by the time you reach the command post, the sun is low in the sky.

The hub is a massive building, a spiked tower rising above the surface of the city. It's an ugly mixture of modern utilitarian architecture and the ancient style of Duro's long-forgotten civilization, a reminder of a forgotten past, and the sight fills you with a sense of foreboding as you approach. The repulsorlifts connecting the hub to the flotillas have been shuttered, and the building looms, dark and ominous, against the setting sun.

Rex leads the way up the ramp and into the building, the rest of the men following close behind. You hang back, your gaze fixed on the tower. It feels as though the atmosphere itself is holding its breath, the air heavy with anticipation.

The door hisses open, and you turn, following the others inside.

The interior of the building is dark and gloomy, the hallways lit only by dim, flickering lights. The walls are bare metal, and the floors are lined with cables and conduits snaking through the corridor. It's a labyrinthine structure of hallways and empty rooms, and it takes you a moment to get your bearings.

Snap stays close, a silent sentinel at your side as the others form up around you. The two of you keep an eye on Rex’s back as you walk, and you can see him glance over his shoulder every so often in your direction as if checking to make sure you’re still there. You meet his gaze each time and give him a reassuring smile.

You walk until the hallway branches off, a makeshift sign directing toward the medbay the Republic has set up in the lower levels. Snap slows to a stop and nudges your arm.

“I’m gonna go talk to Wise and see if he has anything for your headache," he says. He pauses and glances at the group ahead of you. "You'll be okay?"

"Yes, Snap," you sigh, and he narrows his eyes and turns his head, cupping a hand over the side of his mouth.

“Hey Rex,” Snap calls out. Rex stills, the rest of the squad following suit. "I'm going to see if the Chief has anything for our General. Think you can keep her out of trouble until I get back?"

“Snap,” you hiss. He shrugs and turns back, a smug smirk on his face. You shake your head. "I'm fine."

Rex chuckles and turns, his expression playful.

"I think I can manage," he replies, and Snap gives him a salute, disappearing down the hallway. You're left standing awkwardly in the middle of the corridor, the remaining members of the 419th giving you curious looks. You roll your eyes and start walking.

"I should be offended by that," you mutter as Rex falls into step beside you, letting Fives take the lead.

"Nah," he replies. "It's good. They're just looking out for you."

"They're treating me like I'm fragile," you grumble.

"They're treating you like a sister," Rex corrects. He tilts his head towards the men, his voice soft. "Which isn't too far off."

"You're not helping," you grumble. You give him a sidelong glance, and he shrugs. "I can't believe they're doing this."

"I can," he retorts. His voice is gentle, and his eyes are bright. "You deserve it. And honestly, I'm glad. After the last time we saw each other—"

"Let's not talk about that," you interrupt, and he gives a quiet huff. "Please."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to," you mutter. Rex gives you a skeptical look, and you sigh. "It's just...I'm not sure how to...talk about it."

"Then we won't," he agrees. He's silent for a moment, and you can feel him studying your face. "For now."

"Thanks," you whisper, and he hums.

You walk in silence after that. You're acutely aware of Rex's presence next to you, the familiarity of his mind. It's comforting, and you're reminded again how much you've missed him. Even his emotions, which are often tumultuous, are a comfort. They're warm and affectionate, and they fill the space around you, wrapping you in a soft blanket.

It's nice. But it's also incredibly distracting.

By the time the squad emerges from the hallway, you're a jumbled mess of emotion. You're tired, and your head is pounding, and the last thing you need is another round of teasing. But with Anakin, you know there's no chance of avoiding it.

The rest of the clones disperse, and you and Rex continue on through the command center, a large, open space with the ceiling extending far overhead. There are catwalks lining the upper floors, and a series of computer consoles are arranged in neat rows, each console manned by a clone or a droid. 

Rex leads you towards a raised dais with a holotable in the center of the room. Anakin and Ahsoka are there, along with several other members of the 501st, including Jesse. The trooper stands to the side, his arms crossed, and he greets Rex with a curt nod before his eyes slide over to you. A slight smile touches his lips, and it only widens when he takes in how close Rex is hovering next to you.

You roll your eyes. You're not sure why you assumed he'd be any less insufferable than the others. Jesse had been the one to tell you, explicitly, that Rex was in love with you, but he'd done so with such a straight face and had been so unflappable in the aftermath that it was hard to imagine him still teasing you about the potential relationship.

But apparently his patience and self-control were only a ruse, and he was just as bad as the rest of the men. You can only imagine what Rex had to endure in your absence.

Ahsoka looks up and meets your gaze, her expression shifting from frustration to relief as you and Rex ascend the steps. You're struck by how different she looks, her blue eyes still bright and full of life, but her expression older, her features sharper, and her aura heavier. She's grown since the last time you saw her, and the war has left its mark.

Still, though, she smiles just as brightly as ever, her excitement and happiness radiating through the Force. She darts around the holotable and embraces you in a hug.

"Master Anathorn," she exclaims, her voice muffled against your shoulder. You laugh and return the hug, giving her a squeeze. "It's so good to see you."

"Good to see you, too," you reply, and you step back, taking her in. "You've gotten taller."

"Have I?" she asks, her eyes crinkling.

"You have," you confirm.

She glances over her shoulder at her master, and you follow her gaze. Anakin is leaning against the holotable, his arms crossed. His gaze is fixed on the map, but he's clearly listening to the conversation. He looks older too, his hair slightly longer, his eyes a bit more tired, but there's still a spark of mischief in his gaze. He meets your eyes and gives a small, almost imperceptible smile, the corner of his mouth twitching.

"Took you long enough.”

"Nice to see you too, Anakin," you sigh.

"Glad to have you back, Goldie," he replies, breaking out into a grin. He rounds the table and approaches, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and giving you a squeeze before he steps away. You grimace, and Ahsoka snickers.

"I forgot how much I hated that nickname," you grumble. "Any chance you'll stop calling me that?"

"Not likely," Anakin replies easily. You shake your head and glance at Rex, who's watching the exchange with a mix of bemusement and annoyance.

Anakin follows your gaze, trailing down to where Rex is still hovering on the step behind you, his hand balanced on the railing next to your hip. You can't help but notice how close he is, his armor almost brushing your back. Anakin arches a brow and smirks.

"Captain," Anakin greets. "You're late."

"Sorry, sir," Rex replies, his voice tight. He hesitates, glancing down at his hand, and shifts back, clearing his throat and tucking his hand behind his back. "We were delayed."

"Oh? By what?"

Rex clears his throat. "Droids."

"We were fighting your battles for you, evidently," you add with a glare. You're not sure what game Anakin is playing, but you don't like it, and the urge to defend Rex is too strong to ignore. "You could have at least mentioned that we had a Separatist blockade to deal with. Or did you forget about us?"

"We didn't forget about you," Ahsoka interjects quickly. She gives her master a look, and he holds up his hands, his expression innocent. "We're glad you made it."

"Thank you, Ahsoka," you say. You glance at Anakin and scowl. "It's nice to know some people have manners."

Anakin just smirks. Ahsoka sighs and turns, and Rex falls into step beside you as the four of you crowd around the table. There’s a brief, featherlight touch on the small of your back, a flash of gratitude in the Force, and the contact sends a shiver up your spine. You give him a sidelong look and find his expression is carefully neutral, his gaze focused on the holomap. His fingers twitch against the hilt of his blaster.

"Okay, well, let's get started," Anakin says, turning his attention back to the holotable. He waves a hand over the display, and a series of images and data files appear. "The Separatists have managed to cut off communications from the flotilla and are jamming our transmissions to the fleet. We need to get the signals back up, and soon."

He pauses, his gaze moving over the gathered group.

"Our intelligence suggests the Separatists are using a signal jammer located somewhere in the city," Anakin continues, pointing near the hub. "We’re guessing it’s a distraction while they prepare for their assault on the shield generators. It's only a matter of time before they start launching an offensive."

"And we can't let that happen," Ahsoka adds. She crosses her arms and leans against the table, her eyes narrowed. "The shield generators are located at the north and south poles of the planet. One is in the center of the capital city, and the other is on the edge of a small farming settlement. The Separatists are planning on attacking both at the same time."

"If they manage to destroy the generators, the shields will fail," Anakin says, a scowl forming on his face. "And once the shields go down, they'll launch their ships. And we'll be in big trouble."

"We'll have to divide our forces, split up," Rex says, and Anakin nods. "One group can take out the signal jammers, and the other two can protect the shield generators."

"Ahsoka is going to lead a team to find the location of the jamming device," Anakin says, nodding to the Padawan. He turns back to you just as Snap arrives, carrying a bottle of water and a small packet. "Goldie, how many men did you bring?"

"Three regiments, sir," Snap answers for you as he passes you the water and painkillers. You give him a grateful look and down the pills, chasing them with a sip of water. "A little over six thousand. They're ready to move out, just waiting on your orders."

"That's good. We're going to need them," Anakin says, and his eyes slide to Rex. "Rex, take the rest of the 501st with Goldie to the northern generator. I'll take two regiments to the south and rendezvous with Ahsoka when she’s finished."

"Understood, sir," Rex replies. He looks over at you and tilts his helmet in your direction. "What do you think, General?"

You study the hologram, and your gaze settles on the capital city, a collection of buildings and factories arranged in a circular pattern. A thick wall surrounds the city, and the shield generator is placed in the center, the structures surrounded by a complex network of defense cannons and guard towers.

To be honest, you're not thinking much of anything. Your head is pounding, and your thoughts are slow and fuzzy. But Rex is looking at you expectantly, and the rest of the group are waiting, so you force yourself to speak.

"It's going to be difficult," you say. You lean against the table, bracing yourself. "But we can do it. My only concern is Grievous' fleet. Our ships can’t hold him off forever.”

"We can't worry about them right now," Anakin says. "Our priority is keeping the Separatists from taking the shields down."

"Agreed," you sigh. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, trying to ease the ache in your head. "Alright. We'll go north. We should try to reach the generator before the droids arrive."

"Copy that, sir," Rex says, and he raises a hand, signaling the troops. "Let's move out."

You nod at Snap, and he does the same, passing the message on to the troopers nearby to take to the regimental commanders. You push away from the table and turn, stepping away as the room bursts into a flurry of activity. Rex is by your side instantly, his hand finding your arm and guiding you down the stairs. You don't resist, letting him lead, and his grip tightens, a reassuring squeeze.

"Are you alright?" he asks quietly. You shake your head, and he sighs, a sympathetic rumble in the back of his throat. "How bad is it?"

"Not too bad," you lie.

"Liar," he accuses. You let out a soft laugh, a small, strained noise that makes his brow furrow. "What do you need?"

"Some time alone," you murmur. "It's...hard, having so many people around."

"Okay," he says. "Can you hold on a bit longer? Just until we can get somewhere private?"

You nod, and he leads you through the bustling crowd, weaving between the troopers as they gather their gear and prepare for the mission. The room is alive with movement, the buzz of voices, and the clatter of armor and weapons. But you hardly notice. You keep your eyes down, focusing on the ground beneath your feet and the feeling of Rex's hand on your arm. It's comforting, grounding, and it's all you can do not to cling to him, to use him as an anchor.

It doesn't take long for him to find a quiet corner, tucked behind a stack of crates and out of sight. It's an out of the way alcove, dark and cool, and the noise fades into a distant murmur.

Rex pulls you to a stop, and you take a deep breath, closing your eyes and letting your head fall forward. You can feel his worry, his concern, but he stays quiet, giving you the space you need. 

He's always been good at that, at knowing what you need, even if you can't put it into words. It's something you've come to appreciate. Especially now, with the noise and the lights and the overwhelming press of his mind.

You let the Force flow through you, washing over you and clearing the fog from your thoughts. The painkillers kick in, and the sharp stabbing pain in your skull fades, leaving behind a dull ache. You focus on your breathing, on the beat of your heart, and the chaos around you begins to recede, replaced by a sense of calm.

When you finally open your eyes, Rex is standing next to you, his gaze fixed on your face. You give him a small smile, a slight curve of your lips that does little to reassure him.

"I'm okay," you tell him, and his jaw tenses, his brow furrowing.

"You're not," he counters, his voice low and soft.

"No," you concede. "But I will be. It's not the first time."

"It wasn't like this before," he says. "Is it—"

"No," you answer before he can finish. You know what he's going to ask, and you don't want him to. "It's not."

“Seems like it is,” Rex insists, his eyes searching yours. You sigh and rub your temples, your shoulders slumping. He's right. It's hard to argue. But the visions are still a raw, open wound. The memories too fresh, the feelings too raw.

You can't talk about it.

"I just need a minute," you whisper.

"Okay," he murmurs, and he steps back, putting some distance between the two of you. You feel his absence like a cold breeze, and a wave of frustration washes over you.

It's not fair how much you want him. It's not fair how close he is, and yet how far away. It's not fair—the war, and the rules, and the fear. You're tired of being afraid. Tired of keeping your distance. Tired of wondering if this is the moment everything comes crashing down. It's too much. You're so, so tired.

Without thinking, you close the gap, wrapping your arms around Rex’s waist and burying your face in his chest plate. You can feel his surprise, his hesitation, and the sudden spike of anxiety. But he doesn't push you away. He wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you closer and guiding you both deeper into the shadows, his grip tightening as the room continues to buzz with activity.

It's risky, the two of you so exposed. Anyone could see, anyone could walk by and catch you in each other's arms, but you don't care. The fear is a distant echo, buried under the exhaustion and the need to feel his body pressed against yours.

You can hear his heart pounding, the rhythm of his breathing, and the soft exhale as he rests his chin atop your head, his body molding to yours. You breathe him in, the scent of his armor, the clean smell of his skin, and the subtle spice of his aftershave. It's comforting and familiar, and it soothes the ache in your chest.

"It's not that bad," you murmur, and Rex scoffs, his grip on you tightening. "It's not."

"No. Of course not," he mutters. His cheek presses against the top of your head, his hand stroking your back. "That's why you're hiding."

"I'm not hiding," you retort, your voice muffled by his chest plate. He chuckles, and you sigh, leaning against him. "Fine. I'm hiding."

"It's okay," he whispers. "You can hide here."

"Thank you," you murmur, and his hand cups the back of your head, his thumb running over the skin of your neck.

"You're welcome," he replies. He pauses, and you can feel the hesitancy radiating through the Force, the weight of his thoughts. You wait, and eventually he speaks. "Are we okay?”

You know what he's asking. It's the same question that's been haunting you since you admitted you want more. It's the same question that's been plaguing your mind, keeping you awake, and torturing you with doubt. Are you okay? Are the two of you okay? Can things go back to the way they were? Or is this something that will change everything?

"I don't know," you admit. "I want us to be."

"Me too," he whispers.

"Then we will be," you promise. You close your eyes and rest your head against his chest, savoring the warmth of his body, the strength of his arms. "We'll figure it out."

"Yeah," he murmurs, his grip tightening, holding you close. You sigh and close your eyes, letting yourself relax. "Yeah, we will."

You stand there for a long time, just holding each other. Eventually, Rex pulls back, his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw.

“What’s going on with you? You don't seem like yourself." He tilts his head and brushes a stray hair out of your face, his voice soft. "Is this about the vision? You can talk to me, you know."

“It’s not about the vision,” you reply, and when his face turns skeptical, you sigh. “It’s not. It’s just a headache.”

“Have you talked to the Chief?"

"Of course I've talked Wise," you grumble. Rex frowns.

"Then why do I have the feeling you're not telling me the whole truth?" He tilts his head, his brow furrowed, his concern bleeding through the Force. "There's something you're not telling me. What is it?"

"Wise said that I'm probably just tired," you deflect. Rex arches a brow, his expression dubious. "It's just a side effect. And the lack of sleep isn't helping."

“A side effect of what?”

“I…”

"Side effect of what?" he repeats, lower this time. You pull away from his grasp, and Rex’s eyes narrow, his hands dropping to his sides. You can see the muscles in his jaw flexing, the frustration radiating off of him in waves. "Please don't tell me that it's nothing. Not again. Not this time."

"You're gonna be mad," you warn, and he shakes his head, his expression tight.

"Probably," he concedes. He lets out a breath and steps closer, his gaze locked on yours. "But I'm not going to stop worrying. So please, just tell me what's wrong."

You swallow and look away, biting the inside of your cheek. You shouldn't have said that. But you know that he'll see right through any lie you could possibly come up with, and, honestly, you don't have the energy for it.

You glance over your shoulder, scanning the crowd, but there's no sign of anyone paying attention to the two of you. Even so, you take his hand and lead him further into the darkness, until the two of you are hidden completely, a pile of crates blocking the view.

You take a deep breath and brace yourself, meeting his gaze.

“I healed someone on Nadiem. A child, with a serious brain injury," you confess. "It was...extremely taxing."

You watch as Rex’s expression shifts from suspicion to shock, his eyes widening. He takes a step back, his hands clenched at his sides, his mouth working, but no words coming out. After a moment, he just shakes his head and sighs.

"Of course you did," Rex says, his voice rough. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, a look of pain crossing his face. "When?"

"Not long before our last conversation," you admit. He curses, and you wince. "Rex, it wasn't—"

"It was," he cuts in, his voice tight. His jaw tenses, and he turns away, running a hand over his face. He mutters something under his breath, and the frustration in the Force is almost tangible.

You can't help but notice how tired he looks, his face lined with stress and exhaustion, his eyes heavy with dark circles. He looks haunted. Like he hasn't slept in days. Or weeks. You're not sure which, and the realization is painful.

You reach out, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, and he flinches. His head jerks up, his eyes finding yours, and he takes a step back, his expression guarded.

"Rex," you urge softly. "Talk to me."

"I just..." he trails off, his gaze drifting away. He sighs, his shoulders drooping, and he leans back against the crates. "I thought we agreed that you wouldn't put yourself in danger like that. And you...you still did."

"It was an emergency, Rex," you say, your tone a mixture of exasperation and fondness. You take his hand and squeeze, and his fingers curl around yours. "Besides, it was…different this time. Yeah, my head hurts, but the way that it felt? I've never felt anything like it. It was incredible. I felt more in control than I ever have. The pain wasn't as bad, and the drain wasn't as severe."

Rex gives you a sidelong glance and tilts his head. "Why is that?"

"I don't know. I have a theory, but it's..."

"What?" he prods, his brow furrowing. He straightens up, and the curiosity is written all over his face. "You think you might have finally learned how to control the Force, right?"

"Yes," you confirm. You smile at him and step closer, your hands moving to his shoulders. “I trusted the Force, and it guided me. And it worked. Better than it ever has. The kid just walked out of the medbay the next morning, completely healed. It was a miracle, Wise said."

Rex frowns and glances away, his brows drawn together. He's silent for a long time, his gaze fixed on the ground. When he speaks, his voice is soft.

"It doesn't change anything," he says, and you scoff, dropping your hands to your sides.

"It changes everything," you argue, and he shakes his head.

"Not if it puts you in danger."

"It was worth the risk, Rex," you say, and he huffs.

"Not to me."

You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to remain calm. It's hard. Your emotions are bubbling up, threatening to boil over, and you're not sure what to do. You're angry, and frustrated, and hurt, and you can feel his anger too, and his fear. But there's something else, something deeper. There's a vulnerability there, an aching loneliness, and you can't bear to let it fester.

"Why?" you ask. "Why does it bother you so much? You know what I can do, Rex. It's not like this is the first time."

He shakes his head, his eyes dark. "It's not about the Force."

"Then what?"

"You," he says. His voice is rough, and his eyes are bright, burning with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. "It's about you. You're always pushing yourself too far, putting yourself in the line of fire, and not caring about the consequences. That's what bothers me. You're so focused on saving everyone else that you don't realize you're going to get yourself killed. Or worse."

You take a breath, trying to keep your voice steady.

"I can't help it, Rex," you say, and his face twists, his mouth pressing into a thin line. "I can't turn it off. And I'm not going to apologize for trying to save lives. And, frankly, I'm getting tired of hearing about it. So, for once, can we not do this?"

"Not do what?" he asks, his voice rising. "Be concerned about you? Or worried about the possibility that you might not make it through the war? No, we can't not do that. Because that's my reality."

"That's not fair," you protest, and he shakes his head, pushing off the crate and stepping forward, closing the distance between the two of you in one stride.

"Neither is expecting me to be okay with the fact that you're constantly throwing yourself into danger," Rex says, his voice sharp. He leans closer, and the air between you seems to crackle, the Force rippling with energy. "Or worse, not even tell me about it."

"It's not that simple, and you know it," you hiss, and Rex shakes his head, his eyes blazing. "I can't—"

"Yes, it is," he insists, his tone firm.

"No, it's not," you retort. "You don't understand what it's like to have this power, to have the ability to help people, and not use it."

"And you don't understand what it's like to have to stand by, helpless, while the person I—" He cuts himself off, and his expression turns stricken. He takes a deep breath, swallowing hard, and continues, "The person I care about risks her life. Over and over again."

"I do," you argue. The anger coursing through you, hot and bright, burns through your veins, but you fight to keep it at bay. You fight to keep your voice down, even though the urge to do something, anything, is threatening to break free. "I do understand. Because that's what it's like for me too."

"It's different," he insists, and you can't help but roll your eyes. "It is."

"How?"

"Because it is," he snaps, his frustration seeping through the Force. "You're the Jedi. I'm just a clone."

"Don't," you warn, your voice low. The anger is replaced with a sharp pang of hurt, a deep, piercing ache that leaves you reeling. "Don't even start with that."

The two of you fall silent, breathing hard. Rex stares at you, his eyes wild, his expression a mix of frustration and pain. He looks at you, really looks, and the weight of his gaze is almost unbearable. You can't meet his eyes, so instead you stare at his chest, your heart pounding. You're shaking, and you're not sure if it's from the rage or the pain.

Rex is right, though. It is different. Your life is worth more than his, and the knowledge of it sits heavy in your chest. It's a bitter truth. An awful, painful realization that has been slowly eating away at you since the day you first met him, met all the clones. They were never meant to survive. In the eyes of the Republic, he's expendable, a replaceable cog in the machine of war. 

And you hate it. You hate that the galaxy has so little regard for their lives. You hate that the Jedi Order has allowed the clones to be used like this. You hate that, no matter how much you try, no matter how much effort you put into saving their lives, it will never be as important as saving your own. And most of all, you hate that Rex knows it, too.

You close your eyes, trying to regain control, but the anger is still there, simmering beneath the surface. The ache in your chest is a physical pain, and it takes every ounce of strength not to lash out, to throw the boxes at his feet, to send them flying into the wall. To shatter the silence with a blast of power that would leave the entire room shaking.

But you can't. You can't risk it. The only thing keeping you grounded, keeping you from losing control, is Rex. The warm press of his mind, the familiar hum of his Force signature. It's the only thing keeping the darkness at bay. You cling to it, holding tight.

"Fine," Rex sighs, and he runs a hand over his head, his expression resigned. "But that doesn't mean it's not true."

"It's not true," you whisper. He raises an eyebrow, and you shake your head, the anger fading, replaced by a desperate, aching sadness. "I won't let it be true. I can't. Rex, you're—you're more than just a clone. To me. You have to know that."

"I know," he admits, his voice soft. He closes his eyes, and his shoulders slump. "I do. But that doesn't change anything."

"No," you agree. You swallow, the ache in your chest spreading. "I suppose it doesn't."

The two of you stand in silence for a moment, the air heavy with the weight of your words. You can feel the pain, the guilt, and the sorrow radiating off him. And you know it's not going to get any easier. Not anytime soon.

You're exhausted, too tired to keep the fires of your rage burning, and every second passes leaves you feeling colder than the last. You don't have the energy to keep arguing, to keep trying to convince him that you're doing the right thing. Or that it's going to be okay. The truth is, you're not sure if it is. But you have to believe.

So instead, you reach for him, and Rex lets out a shuddering breath before he meets you halfway. Your arms wrap around his neck as you pull him into your arms, his chest plate pressing against yours, his arms encircling your waist, and he buries his face in your neck. You close your eyes and let him lean into you, his body curling around yours.

"Why are we doing this?" Rex asks, his voice a rough whisper. You can feel his lips move against the skin of your neck, his breath tickling the hairs at the nape. You shiver, and he presses closer, his fingers digging into your back.

"Doing what?" you murmur.

"Arguing," he answers. "We shouldn't be doing this. Not now. We should be...we should be celebrating, or...or doing something. Anything."

"Like what?"

"I don't know," he mutters. You pull back, looking up at him, and his expression is pained, his jaw clenched. "I just know it's not what I want. Is it—is it what you want?"

"Well, you know I do enjoy a good argument," you quip, trying to lighten the mood, and Rex gives you a deadpan look. You sigh and rest your forehead against his chest, closing your eyes. "No, it's not what I want."

"Me neither," he admits, and he lets out a shaky breath, his hand cupping the back of your head. "We've barely spoken for months, and the first thing we do is fight. Why are we fighting?"

"Because we're stubborn.”

"I'm stubborn," he corrects. "You're impossible."

"Oh, come on," you huff. "I'm not that bad."

"Worse," he counters, a smile tugging at his lips. "Definitely worse."

You kick his boot with the toe of yours as you glare up at him, and he gives a small laugh, the corners of his eyes crinkling. You can't help but notice the way his eyes shine in the dim light, the hint of mischief and warmth, and you feel the last bit of anger fade away, replaced by a familiar sense of affection.

"Rex," you whisper.

"Yeah?"

"I missed you."

"I missed you too," he murmurs, his thumb moving gently near the spot by your ear. You lean into the contact, and his gaze softens, a look of tenderness settling over his features. "So much."

"So stop being mad at me," you plead. He sighs, his eyes searching yours. "Please."

"You make it very difficult not to be," Rex says, his voice laced with humor. "Especially considering your track record."

"I'm working on it," you grumble. "I'll try not to worry you so much, okay? I promise."

"Well, that's something," he says with a chuckle. You laugh, and he squeezes your waist, a playful tug. "You're going to give me a heart attack."

"You're too young for that," you tease. "Maybe an ulcer."

"Oh, well, as long as it's an ulcer," he drawls, and you snicker. He gives you a look, but it lacks heat, and he can't hide his smile. "Seriously, though. Please be careful. I have a bad feeling about this whole thing."

"I'll try," you reply. You stroke his cheek, his stubble scratching against your palm. "You too."

"Always am," he assures you.

He tilts his head, leaning into your touch, and his eyes slide shut. His forehead presses against yours, and his hand slips around your waist, pulling you closer. His scent fills your senses, his presence enveloping you, and you close your eyes, letting yourself relax.

He feels so good, the warmth of his body seeping into yours, the weight of his hands on your hips grounding you. And it's only now, with the space between you closed, that you realize how much you've missed him. How much you need him. How much you love him.

You open your eyes, taking him in. He's so close, his lips inches from yours. All it would take is a shift, a tilt of your head, and you'd be kissing him.

"You should know that I...I..." Rex falters, and his eyes flicker open, a hesitant look on his face. His mouth works, but no words come out, and his grip on you tightens. "I'm..."

"What?" you prompt softly.

He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, his jaw clenching. 

"I'm—"

"Hey, Captain!" 

Rex jerks back and yanks his hands away as if burned, and he stumbles, nearly tripping over his own feet and into the stack of crates behind him. You reach out, steadying him, and his cheeks burn as his eyes dart over your shoulder, his attention focused on whoever called his name. You turn to find Fives rounding the corner, and the trooper skids to a halt, his gaze darting between the two of you, his mouth hanging open.

"Fives," Rex greets, his voice strained. He straightens, adjusting his armor and clearing his throat, and his gaze lands anywhere but on the clone. "What can I do for you?"

"Uh…" Fives hesitates, his eyes flickering over to you. His face twists into an apologetic grimace, and you shake your head, a silent signal that it's fine. He nods, his expression easing, and he gestures vaguely over his shoulder. "I just...we're ready to move out. We're waiting on the two of you."

"Right. Right, of course," Rex replies, his voice thick. He glances down at you and clears his throat, his expression carefully neutral. "General."

"Captain," you murmur.

He looks at you, his eyes wide, his cheeks still flushed, and his mouth works silently. You can feel your brows rise in amusement, and his gaze darkens, a warning.

"I'll be right there," Rex says, his tone firm.

"You got it," he replies. He shoots you a glance before he turns on his heel and walks off, the bounce in his step telling you that he's enjoying this a little too much.

You sigh and turn back to Rex, his gaze locked on the crate next to you. He's avoiding your eyes, his lips pressed together and his arms crossed over his chest.

"So," you start, and his gaze snaps to yours. "Where were we?"

"Nowhere," he says, his expression pained. He shifts his weight and glances away, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. "Absolutely nowhere. That was...nothing. We can talk about it later."

"If you're sure," you say, and he nods. You can't help but notice the flush in his cheeks, the slight tremble in his hands. He's nervous. Really, really nervous. You're not sure why. "Okay. If that's what you want."

"That's what I want," he confirms, his voice tight. 

"Okay."

"Okay."

Rex lets out a frustrated sigh and rubs his face, his hands falling away to grab his helmet off a nearby crate. He pulls it on, the hiss of the seals echoing in the space, and his posture straightens. The change is subtle, but it's noticeable. The air around him feels more controlled, the chaos and uncertainty giving way to focus and confidence. It's like a switch has been flipped. He's Captain Rex again, not the man who was inches away from kissing you.

You shake your head, a wry smile touching your lips, and he tilts his head, studying you. His gaze lingers for a moment before he turns and walks away, his strides purposeful, and you're quick to follow.

By the time you reach the entrance to the building, it’s nearly dark, and the streets are crowded with troopers filing into transports, tanks, and gunships. The air is filled with the buzz of conversation, the steady rumble of engines, and the whine of repulsorlifts. It's a chaotic scene, and the noise is disorienting, a dull roar that seems to fill your senses.

“Sir.”

You turn to see Snap and Wise approach, the latter adjusting his medpack on his shoulders as he walks. Wise gives you a once over, his brow furrowing while his gaze roams your face, as if he could see your headache if he looked closely enough. His gaze darts to Rex, and you can feel the disapproval radiating off of him.

"You good, sir?" Wise asks, his voice low.

"I'm fine, Wise," you reassure him.

"Uh-huh," he hums, clearly not convinced, and Snap gives him an exasperated look. 

"That's the fourth time today," Snap warns. Wise scowls, his lip curling. "It's not going to work. Stop asking."

"It might," Wise mutters.

"It won't," he counters, and the medic lets out a huff. "We're ready, General. All units accounted for."

"Thank you," you say, and you glance at Wise. "Both of you."

Snap salutes and heads off, and Wise lingers, his expression unreadable. He sighs, shakes his head, and adjusts the strap on his pack.

"I'll ask again later," he warns. You shake your head, a faint smile forming on your lips, and he grunts and steps closer, lowering his voice. "And about whatever that was. With the Captain."

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you reply smoothly, and you hold Wise’s gaze with raised eyebrows, daring him to call your bluff. His expression doesn't change, and the two of you stand there for a long moment, a silent battle of wills.

Wise finally breaks first, a heavy sigh escaping him.

"Yes, sir," he grumbles, though you know better than to think he’s going to let that go so easily. "You coming?"

"No, she's riding with me," Rex interrupts, and you turn to see him standing behind you, his arms crossed over his chest. His posture is casual, but there’s a tightness to his tone that catches Wise's attention, and the medic frowns. He nods in the direction of one of the 501st's gunships. "Orders."

"Of course she is," Wise drawls. He raises an eyebrow, and you can tell he wants to say something else, but he holds his tongue, settling for a knowing smirk. "See you in a bit, sir."

Wise salutes, turns, and jogs off, his long stride quickly eating up the distance to his transport. He joins his brother, and the two of them climb inside, disappearing from view. 

Rex catches your eye and jerks his head toward his ship, and you follow him, shaking your head at his blatant lie. You’re the highest ranking officer on the planet. There are no orders. But, as far as excuses go, it works, and you don't argue. You're not going to pass up a chance to spend more time with him.

"You’re giving me orders now, Captain?" you tease. "I should put you in the brig for insubordination."

"I think we're past that," Rex replies. He slows his pace, and you match him, the two of you walking side by side through the throng of troopers. He clears his throat and glances toward you. "Sorry. I just...now that you’re here, I'd rather keep you close. For everyone's safety."

"Right," you drawl. A smirk curls on your lips, and you nudge him with your elbow. "For everyone's safety."

"Yes," he says, a hint of exasperation in his voice. He gives you a pointed look that translates through his helmet. "Don't start."

"I'm not starting anything," you laugh. "I'm just agreeing with you. For everyone's safety."

"General," Rex sighs.

"Captain."

His hand finds your shoulder, and he nudges you gently in the direction of the waiting gunship. “Just get on the damn ship, will you?"

"Alright, alright," you concede, holding up your hands. "You're getting very pushy."

"I'm trying to keep you alive," he replies, his tone flat. "It's a full-time job."

"A little dramatic, don't you think?" you quip, and he grunts in response. Rex's hand slides down your back before he gives you a light shove, and you stumble forward, biting back another laugh.

"Get going. Or I'm going to leave without you."

"You're lucky you're cute," you mumble. You watch out of the corner of your eye as he stiffens, letting out a choked noise. A wicked smirk spreads across your lips, and you tilt your head, your gaze fixed on his. "What was that?"

"Nothing," he croaks, and he gestures at the ship. "After you, sir."

"Thank you, Captain."

Rex sighs and shakes his head, his helmet tilted in a way that tells you he's rolling his eyes. But the exasperation doesn't last, and the fondness in his aura only intensifies. You can't help the flutter that passes through you at the feeling, or the smile that lights up your face as you turn and board the gunship.

It’s strange, how connected you feel to him now, as if the past couple of months have only heightened the bond between the two of you. His presence in the Force is stronger, more vibrant. You're acutely aware of his mind, his emotions. They're clearer, more defined, and the connection is easier to maintain. Rex is closer, in every way possible.

You can't help but wonder if it has something to do with the dream of the golden fields. If the two of you truly are linked in some way. That there's a future for the two of you.

Or maybe it's just the stress and anxiety of the mission, the fear that something will happen, and your other vision will come true. Maybe you're just worried. Or maybe you're just missing him.

Maybe this is how it's always been, and you've just been too blind to notice.

You don't know, and you're not sure if it matters. Not right now. As long as he's here, and the two of you are together. That's all you need.

Rex's hand finds yours as you grab onto the safety handle to steady yourself, brushing your fingers lightly before pulling away to grasp the one above his head. The gesture is small, subtle, but it's more than you could have asked for. It’s a reminder that you’re not alone, and neither is he. That no matter what happens, the two of you are in this together.

You can worry about the rest later.

taglist: @cyaretra @kindalonleystars @totallyunidentified @lovelytech9902 @frozenreptile @etod @puppetscenario @umekohiganbana @resistantecho @dindjarins1ut @tech-aficionado @aynavaano @burningnerdchild @ihatesaaand @lolwey @chocolatewastelandtriumph @hobbititties @mere-bear @thegreatpipster @lordofthenerds97 @tentakelspektakel @notslaybabes @ayyyy-le-simp @mali-777 @schrodingersraven @megmegalodondon @dangraccoon @heavenseed76 @dreamie411 @sukithebean @bunny7567 @lostqueenofegypt @anything-forourmoony @9902sgirl @jedi-dreea @salaminus @heidnspeak @gottalovehistory @mrcaptainrex @maniacalbooper @burningnerdchild @yoitsjay @julli-bee @moonychicky @sonicrainbooms @captn-trex @webslinger-holland @marchingviolist @deerspringdreams @cw80831

[cottonlemonade]

Plan B

word count: 1015 || avg. reading time: 4 mins.

pairing: post-time skip!Kuroo x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff, pining

warnings: none

synopsis: he is trying to convince you to go out with him

The café was in its typical morning lull when you came in. After the coffee rush of the business crowd and students on their way to class there were now only a few people seated comfortably around the small round tables, chatting idly and enjoying a piece of quiet in the hustle of a new Monday. This was your favorite time of the day. The early spring sun was shining happily through the large front windows, making the dark wooden walls appear as if dipped in honey. The smell of freshly brewed coffee mixing with the soothing scent of cookies, all amidst the faint sound of traffic humming underneath the soft clanking of spoons gave you a deep sense of calm.

After the daily round of hellos and how-are-yous, you put on your black apron and got to work in the kitchen, starting on the preparations for lunch.

“Manager?”, an hour later as you just put the finishing touches on a batch of orange drizzle muffins, one of your baristas poked his head through the door and gave you a look. You sighed and joined him in the front by the cash register. Sure enough the tall man waited for you, a wide grin across his handsome face.

“No.”, you told him before he even got the chance to say anything.

“And good morning to you, too.”

“No.”, you said again, beginning to prepare his usual order of simple green tea.

“Just one cup of coffee, we don’t even have to leave the premises.”

“400 yen, please.”

He counted out a small stack of coins on the counter and crossed his arms.

“Where is your cheer squad today?”, you asked, referring to his usual companions of a broad guy with spiky gray hair and a smaller one whose smile rivaled the sun in brightness. Needlessly supervising the last drops of hot water in the to-go cup, you made sure to add the exact amount of tea leaves to a little bag, just so you didn't have to look at him and his ridiculously confident smirk.

“Eh, I think they got tired of you rejecting me.”

“Interesting, any chance that’ll happen to you, too?”

“Sure, I’ll stop”, he slid over to where you were finishing up his order and lowered his voice, “when you stop blushing whenever I ask you out.”

He accepted his order with a wink. “Thank you. See you tomorrow.”

When the door closed behind him, you found your barista leaning against a counter with a cocked eyebrow.

“That makes seven!”, he announced, pointing to a small blackboard on the back wall where you usually wrote down the groceries needed that week. In the lower left hand corner he and the rest of the staff had begun to keep a tally of how often the guy had asked you out so far.

Seven times in three weeks. You smiled against your better judgment. You knew not to take him too seriously. Knew it was just a game to him. When he came in for the first time you had almost dropped a mug, because how could someone look this casually seductive?!

It wasn’t that you didn’t have the urge to say Yes just for the hell of it. But you weren't in the mood to be a short-lived plaything for a guy who probably only thought chubbies were easy. And thus began a regular routine of rejecting him. You didn’t know whether you actually wanted him to stop or if saying No to him had just become a reflex. A wise one probably.

Kuroo groaned and gently hit his head against his desk. Of course the thought that he might be an actual creep for asking you out so much had occurred to him but when he made his initial attempt, you had said Yes at first before immediately changing your answer to No. How on earth could he prove to you that he wasn‘t kidding when he told you that you were on his mind all day? Your smile, your voice, your exceptionally squishable body all brought new amounts of cute-aggression into his life.

At this point he was running out of options. Maybe… maybe he should just wait until you approached him instead - if you ever would, that was. He needed a new idea.

And so, one misguided day, he listened in on the gossip of his coworkers who talked about what mundane things they found attractive in a guy. And that’s how we got here:

Kuroo sat at a large four seater table in the corner of your café. Papers were strewn about, magazines lay open for references. He had loosened his tie and opened the top two buttons of his crisp white shirt; his reading glasses were pushed back onto his nose in regular intervals. It was warmer today. So warm that he had discarded his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, wristwatch glinting in the soft glow of the afternoon sun. He gave a little frown and absentmindedly bit his bottom lip as he consulted one of the articles, sometimes silently mouthing along to paragraphs he read, twirling the pen in his long fingers. He lifted a page to read the next, making a note on a separate sheet, the muscles in his forearm taut while he wrote.

He looked up at nowhere in particular, then closed his eyes and stretched his tired neck, the open shirt tightening around his broad shoulders, the line of his jaw highlighted by the golden light beaming through the large windows…

"Sir.", a waitress stepped professionally to the table, a towel neatly tucked in the waist cord of her apron, hands politely folded in front of her stomach.

"Yes?"

"The manager isn’t here today."

His cheeks started to burn, "Why- I mean… what?"

"And while we do appreciate what you do for the ambiance", a subtle gesture pointed out the girls, women and the barista staring, some even holding up their phone camera, giggling behind their hands, "this isn’t a library, so please order something or free the table."

"…O-of course."

[part 2]

[555aturn]

Whispers of Zaun⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

chapter one

summary- As the apothecary navigates another day in Zaun, tending to customers, reminiscing about lost loved ones, and adopting a stray black cat named Hex, she finds solace in the quiet routines of her shop. But when a bloodied Sevika appears at her doorstep in the dead of night, it marks the beginning of an unexpected entanglement-one that neither of them is prepared for.

warnings- talks about death, injuries, and blood (nothing too graphic i promise my sweets) SLOW BURN

minors do not enter!!!

word count- 2.1k

The shop was always quiet on Thursdays. Only a couple of customers trickle in and maybe one or two women hoping to escape the evil men that remain in their lives. I was putting away my tarot cards when the bell rang at the entrance of my shop, indicating someone had come in. I sigh and walk towards the front, walking through the beaded curtain that separates me from my home and my business. 

It was Ran, one of Silco’s henchmen. Ran is actually one of the few people from Silco’s squad I tolerate; they're always very nice and have great manners… unlike the rest of the bunch.

“Ran! Darling, what do I owe the pleasure?” I stood behind the wooden countertop. “Ah well, I wish it was just to chat, but Silco said he wants a few potions.” Ran said while messing with their jagged black hair. 

“Hm, of course… duty calls. What does he need?” I asked. Ran handed over a thin brown paper with a lengthy list of things he wanted. I sighed.

“Well honey, would you like some tea while you wait? A new shipment of lavender came in.” 

Ran nodded, and I smiled, opening a fresh pack of lavender. As I handed Ran the steaming mug I took the list from my pocket and got to work. 

The familiar motions of measuring herbs and bottling mixtures usually kept my mind steady, but today, my thoughts drifted.

Maybe it was the scent of lavender—Vander always said it reminded him of simpler times. Or maybe it was just the weight of Zaun pressing in, the way it always did when things got too quiet.

It has been about a year since Vander died and Silco officially ran the lanes. It was tragic, Vander’s passing, and he gave the people of Zaun hope. I haven’t been to The Last Drop since he died. The memory of him still haunts me; but, I can’t hear his laugh anymore, and I’m starting to forget what color eyes he had. Vander and his kids used come to my shop, and we’d catch up. Vander was older than me by almost ten years, but he helped me get up on my feet when my dad died. My dad was all I had, and Vander reminded me of him. 

Powder and Vi once knocked over a whole shelf of edible glitter dust, and it was the best day ever. I closed early, and we spent the day cleaning up. A tear slid down my cheek at the memory. I hear rumors that Vi and Powder are dead or that they fled Zaun together but something always washes over me whenever I think about the two young girls. Like a warm sheet, it cocoons by body almost like Janna wants me to know they are alive. I hope it’s true.

“Alright, so I’ve got everything Silco asked for. I packaged the peppermint, lavender, and chamomile in separate bags, and the blood harrow philtre is this glass bottle. You must be careful with this vial, Ran; it is a venomous liquid, understand?” Ran nodded, and I handed over the items to them. 

“That will be 7 valors, please.” Ran handed me the paper notes and waved me goodbye. 

I sighed as I sat on my burgundy sofa that’s placed to the left of my wooden counter. All that thinking back on the past made me want to smoke a cigarillo. That is one nasty habit I picked up after Vander’s death. I reached into my skirt pocket for my lighter and then into the drawer of the table adjacent to the sofa. 

I took a long drag and leaned back, my right arm finding solace on the back of my sofa while the other was occupied with holding my cigarillo. I have grown to love the bitter taste of the tobacco that lingers in the back of my throat for the rest of the day. 

Three more customers in need of my services came by the shop, now it’s closing time. 

It is unfortunate with Silco roaming around and him having me in his clutches, but, with me being one of his ‘allies’—that is what he called it. I had some special advantages as well. He set me up with a connection to Piltover so I can get regular shipments for products or ingredients. Last year I got a bathtub. It was definitely one of my selfish requests, but I was chatting with one of my clients from Piltover, and I was amazed when she mentioned she took baths regularly. 

I turned the faucet to where the water would be lukewarm. I reached under my sink for the bag of rosebuds I keep for occasions like this. I took a handful and sprinkled them into the water, then I undressed.

I slipped into the warm water and let out a sigh of content. The floating rosebuds made the bath water a very light pink color, which made the bath all the more soothing. Having a bath almost makes me forget the struggles I’ve been through and how the city I live in could be destroyed at any moment. The many scars that litter my body bring me back to the brutal reality. 

Even after a nice long bath, my mind refuses to settle.

Sleep can’t seem to want me tonight. I begrudgingly slip out of bed to sit outside on the curb to smoke another cigarillo. I sat there zoning out for a long ten minutes, as I was about to stomp it out; something soft brushed against my leg. I froze up and looked down. It was a black cat; the feline couldn’t be more than a year old.

“Well, hello, sweet baby, what are you doing out so late? It’s not safe.” I cooed at the creature as if it could understand the words I am saying. “You should come inside.” We fell asleep cuddled up to each other. 

Two weeks have gone by since I have officially or unofficially adopted the cat from the curb. I found out the feline is a female. So I named her Hex. Hex likes to terrorize and hiss at almost every customer that walks through the door. Since she is so little, no one seems to mind.

Hex has settled into my shop as if she's always belonged here, weaving between shelves and perching on the counter like she owns the place. She's become my little shadow, a comforting presence in the quiet moments. But quiet never lasts long in Zaun.

Last week, two of Silco's men came by, demanding twice the usual order.

Something must not be going his way at headquarters. The thought almost made me smile—nothing pleases me more than a powerful man being knocked down a peg.

The day has only just started. The morning has always been my favorite. The undercity is never truly silent, but the early hours are as close as it gets—just the distant clatter of pipes, the hum of chem-lights, and the rhythmic drip of condensation from overhead metal beams. 

I go grab a candle to light at the entrance of the shop, a habit from old Zaun, a quiet offering to the wind. Then I got to work. 

Dried herbs rustle as I sort them into neat bundles. Glass bottles clink as I arranged them on shelves. The air fills with the scent of lavender, dried citrus, and something earthier: Zaun-born remedies, meant to soothe the people the chem-barons would rather forget.

Hex watches from her perch, tail flicking in lazy approval. I giggled at the feline. “All chipper because no one has come yet, hm? Did you scare away all my customers?” I jest with the cat. I must have spoken too soon because my bell jingled. One of my regulars, Seraphine, a bubbly young woman who comes in at least once every other week. 

“Seraphine! My dear, welcome back.” I walked out from behind the counter to hug her. “Hi! Sorry I didn’t come by later. I have plans…a date, actually, which is why I’m here.” Seraphine said to me with a pearly white smile. 

“A date? Oh my goodness, darling, that’s marvelous; good men are hard to come by here.” I smirked at her knowingly. Gosh, I have had my fair share of horrible men. Thank Janna; I like women too.

“Yeah, I know; he’s from Piltover.” Seraphine squealed at the top of her lungs. Hex hissed at her. I was shocked, my eyes wide. “Wow, honey, that’s something…So what do you need from me for this date?” I walked back behind the counter. “Well, miss, I was hoping you had some sort of pheromone perfume or something. I want this man to be obsessed and head over heels for me.” She said with another big smile. 

“Well, hun, I have just the thing.” I said with a wink as I disappeared into the back. “Use it wisely, dear; remember, a little goes a long way. I handed her a red elixir in a heart-shaped glass vial. “Don’t put it on yet; wait at least five minutes before you see him.” I said with a warm smile. 

“Thank you so much!” Seraphine jumped up and down and gave me a hug. “Of course, dear, it’s on the house, you'll pay me with the whole story next week. I want all the details!” I say as she practically runs out the door, her bubblegum pink hair bouncing as she goes. 

Today had been good, so I rewarded myself with another lavender bath. Once I got to bed Hex jumped up, she curled up beside me, her tiny body warm against mine, and we drifted off together.

Until there was a heavy knock at my front door.

I threw a robe over my body, since I was only in a pair of panties, and walked to my door. I looked through the peephole; shockingly enough, it was Sevika. Silco’s right hand. I reluctantly opened the door. She was bleeding.

“What do you need?” I said, moving out of the way to let her through. Gosh, she was so tall.

“Hmpf, well, I am obviously bleeding.” Sevika said in a gruff, matter-of-fact tone.

“No shit, you’re ruining my clean floors.” I muttered to myself as I gathered the proper materials to bandage her wound and some remedies to help with the pain.

Shimmer was always a last resort for me. I hated the thought of using it. Silco had me keep it for him at the shop. His men frequently took it. 

Sevika has sat herself on one of my chairs and thrown her red cloak onto the floor, coincidentally soaking up her puddle of blood. Was she trying to be helpful? I shook my head and kneeled beside her. The wound was, in fact, more than that. There was a huge gash on her flesh arm. Very deep from the looks of it.

“What caused this?” I asked as I started pouring rubbing alcohol into the gash. She didn't answer my question, just clenched her jaw and stared at the floor. Whatever had happened, it wasn't just another job gone wrong.

“Fuck—” Sevika cursed as I tightened her bandage. “Alright, you’re all, uh, patched up; you can sleep on the sofa; it pulls out—” “I’m not staying.” Sevika cut me off. “But you’re in no condition to go anywhere else just for the night.” I insisted, and Sevika rolled her eyes but made her way over to my sofa on the left side of the store. “Here, let me help.” I said as I pulled out the second half so she could properly lay down. “Would you like some tea?” I asked her and yawned. “I don't wanna take any of your potions.” Sevika scoffed. “It’s not a potion, just chamomile tea to help you sleep and help with the aches. I can give you hibiscus in the mornin for the swelling.” As I finished my sentence, Sevika was already snoring. Guess she didn’t need it. The only other sounds that could be heard was Sevika’s prosthetic arm making soft whirring sounds and Hex purring at my feet.

I unfolded the fuzzy blanket I had on the sofa and laid it over her. I just realized I never really interacted with Sevika much before this; yeah, she was Silco’s right hand, but she has only come to the shop twice and didn’t say a word to me. Until tonight, I wondered why she came to the shop and not to Silco directly.

go read chapter two

[batsythoughts]

BECAUSE I APPARENTLY WRITE ANGST TOO HEARTBREAKING, HERE IS AN ALTERNATIVE VERSION FOR BRUCE TO GET HIS HAPPY ENDING

Original Version

Time came around for you to arrive at the manor and everyone was practically bouncing in their seats in excitement

The moment the doorbell sounded through the halls, all the kids stood up

Bruce told them all to wait there as him and Alfred went to go open the door to let you in

There you stood in your best outfit as Bruce welcomed you inside with a smile while introducing you to Alfred

Alfred gave a polite nod while saying that the whole family has been so excited to offically meet you

Alfred goes to make sure the table is set for everyone as Bruce begins to guide you towards the living room

The moment you came into view there was a chorus of 'hello's that came the group before they each began to introduce themselves

Barbara, Stephanie, Dick, and even Cass went up to give you a hug while the others politely waved

Damian subtlety walked over to Bruce as the cheerleader squad already began to ask for the story of your life

Damian leaned towards his father as he whispered, "This one seems like a very suitable compared to the others you've accompanied yourself with."

Bruce chuckled softly while patting his son on the shoulder, glad to have his verbal approval

Alfred called for everyone to come to the dining room so they could talk more over dinner

Everyone happily showed you which spot beside Bruce you could sit in as the others took their own spots around the table

The chatter is casual as everyone eats, saying that they had put all their effort into making a meal you would like

You tell them that it is a very nice meal and you appreciated the effort they had put into it for the night

Everything goes quiet for a moment as the children take in the praise that was given to them

Jason suddenly pipes up as he looks over at you with a knowing smirk on his face. "Did you know that Bruce still has the first drawing you did on his coffee cup in one of his desk drawers?"

Bruce drops his fork in embarrassment as he sends Jason a intense look as a way to tell him to be quiet

Barbara excitedly added that it was the only way they knew how to find you to begin with anyways

Cass commented on Bruce having just been randomly 'peppy' in the mornings so they wanted to find out and they weren't actively trying to snoop in his business, which Dick quickly said they that's exactly what they all had done

Bruce quickly tells them to stop talking about it with a flustered look on his face before everyone went back to eating

It lasted for all of 10 seconds before Tim quietly added, "He has one in the car's glove compartment as well."

Everyone looses their shit over that revelation while you cover the smile on your face while looking over at Bruce. Softly assuring him that you thought it was kinda sweet

Bruce kept his gaze down as he told them all he was going to change his locks on both his desk and drawers in the morning

Alfred came walking in with a tray of cupcakes with decorative frosting and placing it in the center

All the girls excitedly tell you they had made the frosting from scratch themselves and paid extra care to make the flowers on them

You smile while taking one of the cupcakes as you admire the design before taking a bite

A hum of approval comes from you as you look at them with an eager nod

The kids get their own cupcakes from the try before talking to one another for a moment

Bruce turned towards you with a grin on his face as you stared back at him while the attention wasn't focused just on you

Bruce reached his hand out to take hold of yours on the table while rubbing his thumb over your knuckle as you just stare at one another

Stephanie quickly takes a picture on her phone before going back to her conversation with Jason and Tim

When everyone was done with their cupcakes, the kids helped clear the table as Bruce takes you to the living room to sit down on the couch together for a moment alone

Bruce expresses his apologies for how the kids had acted for a few times throughout the dinner

You quickly assured him it was fine and were expecting something to that extent anyways

The both of you lean back on the cushion as Bruce pulls you into his side, placing a soft kiss to the top of your head

"I'm glad you could come. All of the kids already seem to adore you. Though, it wasn't too hard for a few of them."

You give a small chuckle while turning your head to give him a soft peck on his cheek

You tell him that you found them all sweet, in their own way, and you were glad to have finally met them all

It goes quiet for a moment before you ask, "Did you really keep the coffee sleeves that I drew on?"

A soft groan comes from Bruce as he leaned his head back on the couch

You gave a small laugh while softly teasing him on how many more he had. Asking if he wanted you to draw some more so he could make his own collection

Bruce grabbed the back of your neck to give you a kiss to make you stop talking about it

You gently kiss back while bringing your hand to his cheek to return the kiss

"Children coming into the room! Please make sure all clothes are on! We don't need any images of undres to be burned in our minds!"

You pull away laughing as Jason yells that from the other room before everyone came walking in

A few of them laughing along as they see Bruce's flustered expression as he rubs his temple

The girls go to your side of the couch and begin asking if next time you would want to do a movie night with them all

The boys go to the other side while just stare at Bruce with knowing expressions

You assure them that you would love to spend more time with them the next time that you come over but you sadly did have to leave since you had work tomorrow

Sounds of disappointing come from all around as you stand up

Bruce gets up as well while saying that he will walk you out

"Alone," he adds before any of the others can fully get up from their spots to come along

When you both get to the door, Bruce tells you how he was glad you were able to make it and he would need to have you over again soon

Mostly cause the kids would bug him until you came back

You smile while agreeing because it was such a fun night

The two of you share a small kiss goodnight before you finally walked out the door, promising to tell him when you got home

Bruce smiles as he makes sure you get in the car before finally closing the door

He walks back into the living room to see everyone patiently waiting for him

They all have smiles as they look back at Bruce as if waiting for some kind of special news

This time, it's Dick that speaks up with a smirk on his face

"So... are you gonna get married to them, or do we have to ask for you again?"

[swan2swan]

Rewatching the original Livewire episode of 90s Superman last week and rewatching the premiere of My Adventures With Superman a few days later really put something into perspective...

The new one is much, much better.

Granted, Lori Petty's voice is iconic, and her character has a ton of charisma...but boy, is she wasted in that. Her character's just mean and arrogant and selfish...which isn't terrible, it's very relevant, especially today, but it wears off pretty quickly. And I know they never gave her a character arc later on in the show; I think the most she does is team up with Parasite once and then cross over to fight Batgirl and Supergirl. Comparing her to other villains like Volcanica and Metallo really puts a stamp on just how much of a Monster of the Week she was.

But that's not even the problem.

The problem is that she's created when lightning strikes a pole and Superman pulls her out of the way to save her...inadvertently channeling the lightning through him and giving her lightning powers. I don't know if anyone realizes that Superman created Livewire, but they certainly don't acknowledge it or make it a plot point. Clark drops her off at the hospital and washes his hands of the matter. The rest of the episode is just him working to take her in.

There's no anger from Leslie that he's turned her into something (but she's excited for it, anyway, so that's also not an issue), or resolution from Clark to fix her. There are several story options, but...no. They just fight. And I get it. It was the nineties. You needed weekly villains, something the kids could come home from school, tune in, and just see some colorful, flashy action going on.

My Adventures With Superman has Leslie bring the lightning powers on herself. Superman saves her from exploding as the alien tech goes out of control, and when he frees her, he gently lays her down on a step....and then, when his back is turned, she's spirited away and kidnapped to a holding facility. He doesn't ignore her: she's taken from him.

Then she breaks out, joins the Kill-Superman squad, breaks out of prison, becomes a mercenary...she's not exactly going through Major Character Arcs, but she's Living.

Or. Trying to.

The point is, the new Livewire brings more to both her own character and Superman's character. Clark isn't callously abandoning her to the prison system; he keeps trying to keep her in line when she shows up, and just keeps focusing on protecting people.

IT'S HEALTHIER FOR BOTH OF THEM.

[fountainpenguin]

Riddle watches New Wish - Post #22

Best of Wish

I enjoy Irep's grit-teethed remark when he mentions Anti-Fairies can't have godkids. He's just like his dad, for real, for real.

If he's this annoyed at the thought of Anti-Fairies not being allowed godkids, that kinda implies he wants one, which is interesting. Godkids were always one of Anti-Cosmo's interests, but never something Foop pursued on purpose or ever expressed interest in.

Please enjoy this cut Anti-Cosmo dialogue from an early script for "Fairly Oddlympics" that I think about constantly:

btw, there are a lot of funny deleted scenes in the old scripts that I love talking about, especially from this one, so if you find anything that catches your eye and post about it, you should @ me because I would enjoy reading your reactions <3

Plot twist - Irep is doing healthy things to work through his "scary godparent for Vicky" trauma while Peri's reaction to Vicky trauma was to cover his ears, hide behind his mom, and sing "La la la, la la la" to pretend she wasn't there.

Peri said his memories of childhood are blurry. I wonder if Irep remembers his childhood better since he was fully able to talk and comprehend things back then.

"Once a fairy quits, any magical being can take their place!"

I mean... Technically yes, but you used to have to sing for it. lol.

The Pixies, who are literally last in line for godkids below all other magical beings (including pegasi, bigfeet, and lake monsters), watching Irep stroll in like: ???

- which imo was implied to be a punishment for their race after H.P. was godparent to some unconfirmed kid I've been headcanoning was Dale for 7 years-

Actually, I like the implication that Irep was so fast to snipe Dev because he's been stalking them since he found out Peri was assigned a godkid.

Irep: Once a fairy quits, any magical being can take their place! Wanda: Peri didn't quit! He was waiting for you to call! Cosmo: He thought you two were on a break! Me: ... ?????? Peri was waiting for Irep to call and take him back? Run that by me again??

... I legitimately cannot tell if they're addressing Dev or Irep. Irep was the last person to speak, but Dev speaks next. Rewinding and listening to the conversation again, I can use my context clues to see they're probably looking at Dev (who is offscreen), but ?? why would you frame it that ambiguously.

Did anyone else get confused here or was that just me?

Also this has done nothing to disprove my previous "Peri is clingy especially where break-ups are concerned" interpretation.

I like how the very first wish Dev makes in this scene isn't for his dad to love him, but for Bev to love him.

How many kids in this class have names that rhyme with Dev and why is he so determined to befriend them all?

?? Okay, so I was previously confused about Dev's friendships because I was pretty sure I remembered him saying in Episode 1 that he and Trev were friends, but we haven't seen them interact at all. I went back and checked, and here's what he says:

"That's Trev! He's my bud, so he probably won't give YOU the time of day."

I wish we got to see him hanging out with Trev. Did they split after Trev didn't come to his sleepover?

- I just checked; I don't see any evidence of Trev at Hazel's. - Hey, did Winn and Jasmine ever find out Hazel lied to them about living in a 5-star hotel? - In conclusion, we are being ROBBED of the Trev-Dev-Bev friend squad.

Looking back, it's very funny that Dev made an effort to introduce Hazel to people when she was the new kid despite that not being his job... including giving some glowing reviews of a few of their classmates, including "This guy's my bud, this person's cool, and I respect this other guy." He wants to talk...

Also, moon is full in New York.

I keep waiting for Irep's music to drop again, but it never does in this scene. It's stressing me out; why did it only drop in THAT scene?

The version I'm watching unfortunately doesn't include credits and I can't find it after a few quick searches, but if Guy Moon did the music for this episode and remembered how he used to do it for Foop and his alt personality when they would do their switch cues 14 years ago, and so when he saw that body language he did it again, I'm gonna lose it.

Surely not... But he had to do it for at least 3 seasons; maybe it just stuck??

I don't see him credited for A New Wish at all on his own IMBD or Wiki page either. idk who did this episode, but I liked it. Hi, I'm the target audience; it's me.

And Irep's still a leftie! Even after putting both hands on the mace handle to smash it down, it goes back to his left when he takes one hand off.

He even does the "sword fight" with his left hand. It's the boy!!!

?? Is Irep's hair both blue (like both his parents') AND black (the color his tuft was in the OG series)?

Are his roots black, but the color eases to dark blue the farther out it grows? That's fantastic!

I like how Peri's hair looks most like his mom's but with a faint slope implying his dad's influence is there, and Irep's hair best parallels his dad's, but he gets his curl from his mom.

Huh. Looks like we've retired the 5 magic colors and now we're just pink poofs and dark blue lightning. Which I'm okay with; I just wasn't paying attention until now. But I know lightning-shaped Anti-Fairy magic was canon in "School of Crock," maybe others.

This does deprive me of my usual 2nd-watch shtick of reading moods based on color. Alas.

I enjoy Hazel rescuing the news reporter, but letting her know that she's a big fan of her work.

Okay, Irep uses his right hand at the last second, but I consider this a win.

I went back and checked frame by frame because I'm a NERD, and funnily enough... It looks like he changes hands after Cosmo blasts him in the left arm. It's hard to tell with the poof cloud, but when you consider the direction he moved (buffeted backwards), that implies it was a left-side hit. It's probably just coincidence, but that's funny.

I like Dev's silly star shades during this scene:

Peri's back!! Old buddies, ol' counterpart pals... I love that teeny-tiny movement Peri makes with his fingers to symbolize air quotes around "quit."

"I never gave two weeks notice~!!"

Also, this definitely belongs in my collection of counterparts using the same body language for opposite moods. idk if we'll see more of that, but it excites me that my stash grows!

I like Peri patting Dev on the head.

"He's still my godkid! :)"

Ooh, snap. Local cousins (once removed) are here to lay down Da Rules, as von Strangles do.

Aw, I like how undoing Dev's cheating means Hazel ends up with the prize shirt. I guess that makes sense; it just wouldn't have been my first thought.

I'm glad adult Irep makes squeaky sounds when you squeeze him. I seem to remember OG Poof making squeaky sounds when he bounced off walls.

Aw, Peri having a happy hug with his parents again! Instead of him feeling like they're overbearing. That's great.

Peri once again proving he's a jealous, clingy ex. I don't think this kid was okay when he was pried away from Timmy and I don't think he took his parents' leaving him on his own for 10k years very well.

I really enjoy Peri's body language throughout this series. All his little twitches and arm rubs and flicking eyes... It says a million words. You could talk forever about him.

I enjoy Dev and Hazel a lot this series, but I think Peri's my favorite. With all his little anxieties and moments he avoids eye contact, you really get the sense that he's working through a lot of baggage.

I like how his instinct was to be honest with his parents and then he immediately regrets it and closes off his body language, avoiding eye contact. He retracts what he said and says something else that he thinks makes him look better. He's got a lot going on.

The fact that he makes this big, decisive head nod as he changes his story to claim he wasn't "jealously spying on Dev" after quitting as his godparent, but he was instead "very normally and confidently passing by" is fantastic. That's... not how people talk in normal conversation, Peri. But I'm glad you're telling me you struggle with confidence issues.

- I think everything I've seen of you supports that. You've been the biggest anxiety ball ever since you got here. - Peri is the guy who'd be on edge wondering if he did something to make everyone mad.

It took me forever to get the above screenshots so I had to keep rewinding, and I have to say... I'm obsessed with that itty-bitty head tilt he does to the left before he goes full right. Idk why it's there, but I like it. It's like a shrug, or like he's thinking through his lie? I enjoy.

Also that teeny-tiny head squirm when he's enjoying the hug with his parents. He's so cute.

Okay, that's pretty messed-up of Peri to laugh with his parents while Dev is in the background really upset. Like, Peri is literally talking about Dev behind his back

-> I wish they'd snuck hints of purple in the background to indicate Peri was there, like a milk carton or pencil or something.

-> I stand by everything I've previously said about Peri not being emotionally mature enough to godparent. His kid needs comfort after a tough experience! Dev just got snapped at and punished by authority and now he's sitting on the ground looking dejected, and Peri's over there giggling!

-> C'mon, man! Hazel clocked on and she's trying to do your job for you. She shouldn't have to do that! (Though it's nice of her to try comforting her friend).

Oop, Dev just yelled at Hazel (again) and Peri did not discourage or discipline him in any way, and tbh... I don't think he even noticed. Because he was laughing and talking about his godkid with his parents. Dude, get your crown in the game.

I love Hazel throwing her prize shirt in Dev's face and shouting that she "hopes it was worth it" <3

I still don't know how to spell O-pairs and at this point, I'm too afraid to ask.

omg, Dev wants to learn about Anti-Fairies. Are we going to get lore and culture? Drama...

PERI, your godkid's running away!! Oh no, he can't hear us... he's got anxiety...

[damiansgoodgirll]

Hello, I came across your post for Damian Priest requests, and thought I'd drop by and make one.

If it isn't too much trouble, can you do Damian Priest being protective of the reader after they were injured? The reader nicknames him Harbinger of Doom in response to a nickname he calls the reader. Angst/Fluff. (I'm a sucker for a fluffy ending). It doesn't matter which version of Priesty it is. He's awesome through it all lol.

damian priest x reader

i’m so sorry i had no idea of how to use the nickname :(( i hope you like it anyway!

nothing to prove

being the youngest and the last member of the judgment day had its pros a cons. you loved how everyone cared about you, especially a cute guy named damian. you and him bonded immediately and even if it started as a simple and cute friendship, everyone knew that you were in love with him.

and everyone knew that he was in love with you.

you were the official couple in the squad, making the fans going crazy everytime you teased each other on live television.

the constant flirting and stolen kisses were enough for the fans to start calling you “mom and dad” and even if it seemed a little weird at first you ended up loving it.

but despite everyone loving you, you started to hate how they all became protective of you. you didn’t matter damian or rhea - mostly damian - throwing a tantrum everytime you got slightly injured, it was cute how he was protecting you but overtime you got bored and even if you told him that, he never stopped doing so.

one special night turned to be a living nightmare.

you were so happy to have your own match against zoey stark. you two were friends but you knew how she could get everytime she was wrestling. she would be brutal and she wouldn’t care if she played dirty, as long as she gets the win, everything is fine to her.

and that’s what she did.

it wasn’t supposed to go like that, you were supposed to win, it was an easy match but of course she played dirty and she slightly injured your back. but the constant hits on your shoulders and back made it hurt more that you could barely stand. you just wanted the match to end so you rapidly tap out, just to end everything.

you were in too much pain that you didn’t even hear rhea attacking zoey and damian kneeling in front of inside the ring.

“you’re crazy!” you slightly heard rhea yelling “i’m gonna make you pay for this” and you knew she wasn’t kidding. she was your best friend and even if that was all a play, you were injured for rhea and that was something she couldn’t forgive.

“mi amor are you okay? estas bien?” damian asked in a whisper.

your back was killing you and your head was spinning. even the fans realised something was wrong when they saw how you couldn’t even move nor stand.

you only felt damian scooping you up in his arms and taking you to get checked. your head was hurting and when damian laid you on the bed you drifted off. tired and in pain.

when you regain consciousness you watched in the small tv inside the locker room how rhea was attacking zoey and how damian was doing nothing to stop her.

referees were trying to stop her but they couldn’t get her away from zoey. damian was laughing and teasing her in spanish.

you didn’t want that to happen. you knew zoey overstepped but that was your business, not theirs. damian was only protecting you but he was acting crazy and you couldn’t handle it anymore so you violently turned off the tv and threw the remote somewhere in the room.

you waited patiently for their feud to be over so you could talk to damian - no, so you could scream at damian for his childish behaviour.

he definitely didn’t expect to see you awake but what he also didn’t expect was to see your pissed look.

“are you okay hermosa?” he slowly started walking towards the couch you decided to sit on.

“don’t come closer damian…”

“what? are you okay?” he asked a little worried.

“you gotta explain why you went all crazy on zoey…that was none of your business” you said. you were clearly still in pain and having a fight right now wasn’t the greatest idea you ever had but you needed to speak with him.

“why? the way your face looks in pain is the reason i went all crazy on her…” he tried to keep his tone low, as he hated fighting with you.

“i know but that wasn’t your business…i could have handled her”

“oh, could you ?” he said back probably too fast.

that was low, even for him.

“i didn’t mean it like that…” he immediately apologised but if you were pissed before, now you were completely mad.

“you know what? i can handle her and i can handle myself, i have nothing to prove, especially not to you damian so if you think i’m not good enough, you can leave…” you knew you were hurting him but his words already hurt you.

“i get it, you’re mad…you’re mad because i overstepped and i shouldn’t have…but i was here backstage watching you crying in pain and knowing that i couldn’t do anything for you was killing me. it took everything in rhea’s power to hold me back from running to you when she first hit your back, knowing that she shouldn’t have…” he started explaining himself and truth be told, you couldn’t stay mad at him for longer than 10 minutes “…i was scared when i saw you almost paralyzed inside the ring…and everything i told her was because she deserved it, i don’t care if she’s your friend, she shouldn’t have done that, so yeah maybe i’m too protective of you but it’s because i love you and i can’t fucking stand seeing you hurt and in pain” he slowly knelt in front of you, taking your hands into his bigger ones “i know you can handle yourself and you proved it so many times now, but if there’s a way i can protect you from getting hurt, i might get hurt from trying princess…” he whispered, bringing your hands to his lips.

you even forgot why you were mad in the first place “you would really get hurt for me?”

“i would take a hundred of bullets for you, i gotta protect what’s mine…” he slowly teased you.

“so i’m yours…”

“from the moment i saw you in the gym training with rhea” he helped you standing up “now…we’re gonna get you checked one more time and when you’re all clear to go, i’m gonna take you back to the hotel and we’re gonna have a very nice and cozy night in…just me and you” he proposed and you nodded.

happy that someone was there to take care of you, and that the person was damian himself.

[teafootballandmore]

Kylian lore anon here!

Regarding his mom honestly I think people, whether they know it or not, have a largely misogynistic view of her.

By all accounts she has a strong personality, is very unapologetically vocal about things that concern her, and won’t people walk all over her or her son. If she was the meek or quiet type, people wouldn’t be saying half the things they say about her.

As for the rumors of her being controlling I believe it’s slightly true, especially when it comes to money, and honestly with a son like him I think it’s ok to be a little overbearing bc at the end of the day he grew up in a crazy world full of overindulgence and excess.

Some tidbits about her and his dad and how they raised him:

- Once when he was little, he witnessed someone getting bullied in school and stayed silent. When his mom heard she made him wear clown shoes to school the next day as punishment for not doing the right thing and standing up for the person getting bullied.

- His parents were tough on him when it comes to education, they didn’t want him to neglect it for football. When Kylian said he wanted to drop out of school and focus on football full time his Dad got super pissed lol. His mom has said that she wanted to him to go to HEC Paris and become a businessman, not a footballer. When he started going to Clairefontaine (French football academy), they made sure he did well in classes there and even got him to do extra lessons with his aunt and uncle who were teachers.

- As I said, they were controlling when it comes to money. At Monaco, when he was earning 80k per week they gave him a weekly allowance of €200 😭 Kylian himself said he’s grateful they did that and he has a healthy relationship with money thanks to them. In Paris, He was talking to an influencer girl asking to meet up at a hotel and she said she’d only do it if he got her a Chanel bag, Kylian said “No, sorry. I can’t buy you a bag” lol. Also at a charity auction, his bid won and when the time came to pay he had to awkwardly wait for his dad to come and pay. Also in 2021, his mom said in an interview he only recently learned how to use a debit card. So clearly this control over his money didn’t stop when he became an adult, I hope it’s stopped now bc it’s a little embarrassing to be a 26 YO and not have control over your own money lol.

- She said she’s made sure to raise her sons to be feminists. She’s also talked about how it was a deliberate choice to make his team of lawyers women, and that it was her idea at first and when she told Kylian he agreed. (This reminds of me Jalen Hurts and his all-women team)

- Some other cute/interesting things his mom has said: He sleeps so much in his free time his family calls him ‘the Koala’ lol. Sometimes he puts on disguises and walks around outside freely without a bodyguard. She used to make him do the dishes after he won the World Cup, and when he was a kid after he came back from the Madrid trip Zidane took him on she made him clean her classrooms to ‘bring him back down to earth’.

Other family tea: His big bro Jires was a w-h-o-r-e who cheated on Melissa a lot. Now they’ve broken up and he lives in the US with his other family. (Yes he has a whole other wife and kids ppl are not aware of, Kylian has a whole other set of nieces and nephews lol). That’s why we don’t see him as much anymore. I think it’s nice that Kylian and the family is so close to Melissa, bc when people divorce in laws usually take the side of the son and disappear out of the woman’s life.

It’s true that he’s very protective towards Ethan. Last year when PSG found out he wouldn’t be renewing they iced Ethan out from the squad, and Kylian got mad and got in an argument with the sporting director over that.He does spoil him too, I’m pretty sure it was Kylian who flew out Ethan’s girlfriend and friends to Dubai for his birthday

That’s it for now ☺️

Girl you're amazing! 💕 Thank you ssooo much. Hope you have amazing weekend!! 🤗😘

I always thought people were taking rumors about his mom too far. I'm sure she's strict and all but she isn't crazy control freak some paint her to be.

I'm glad his parent didn't allowed him to ditch education. It shows! Do you know something more about his dad?

The koala thing I so damn cute 😭 Laughed hard at dishes thing and debt card.

Does he have contact with his older brother? Also good for him for standing up for Ethan. Nasser did enough damage to this family 😤