#i rarely encounter customers and i am so so so happy about that

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

Can't sleep. Maybe I'll pull an all-nighter then go do an eight hour shift. Nothing could go wrong.

[betterbooktitles]

The screen I spend the most time with these days is a black LCD monitor attached to a PC in an indie bookshop on Long Island. I spend whole days looking at point-of-sale software called Anthology which also keeps track of the store’s inventory. Often, it’s accurate. Occasionally, it says we have three copies of The Bell Jar that have simply disappeared from the face of the Earth. No one stole them. They were raptured, like socks that never make it out of the dryer.

If you’ve never worked a retail job, let me tell you what it’s like: you come in with a little spring in your step, caffeinated, and ready to greet your coworkers and update them on how terrible your last shift without them was. Though the memory of the previous shift’s slog might give you a little anxiety, and though a hangover can make your fuse a little short, you’re in a better mood at the start of the day than at the end. Tedious tasks like ordering and unboxing books (sci-fi movies did not prepare me for how much cardboard there would be in the future) seem manageable in the morning. Customers seem kind. The items you’re selling feel necessary to human happiness. Whatever is going on in your life is put on pause to manage store operations, and time flies. Then, by 3 PM, whether you had time for lunch or not, you wish you had done anything else with your day — or, better yet — your life. 

While the back-straining work of moving inventory around the store or walking the floor helping customers all day without a second to sit down might make you physically tired, the real work of retail is mental and forces employees to become part-machine. Retail workers have to ask the same three questions (“Rewards?” “Bag?” “Receipt?”) and reply to the same three questions (“Have it?” “Bathroom?” “Manager?!?!?”) for 8-10 of their most worthwhile waking hours. 

In bookstores, there is the added expectation that while you’re participating in this mind-numbing routine, you’re at least able to pretend to like and engage with literature. I'm not arguing that people working at Old Navy aren’t eloquent or as over-educated for their job as I am. If they aren’t teenagers, most retail employees I’ve encountered have, by virtue of talking to coworkers and customers all day, the same high emotional intelligence as the smartest people I know who chain smoke outside bars. Still, my guess is that it’s rare for a customer to see a clothing store employee folding clothes, and think “I wonder what their opinion is of the latest Ann Patchett book” or “I wonder if they read Knausgård and run a book club when they’re not helping me find jeans in my size.” People see booksellers doing the same tedious tasks as any other retail employee and assume they not only possess unlimited knowledge about the state of publishing but also have unlimited hours to read while in the store. Customers hold booksellers to an impossible intellectual standard. When they fail to live up to said standard, they’re subjected to conversations like this:

“You haven’t read the latest Kingsolver?” a customer will ask, “Why not? What about this one? Or that one? It’s so good though! I thought you would have read all of these!” 

What’s a shame is that they think they’re being kind when they half-recommend, half-admonish bookstore employees. Worse are the people who are flat-out rude. Case in point, a man came into the store at hour six of my shift, and without any preamble, treating me like I was a human Google search bar, said the name of an author, then started spelling the name. When I asked for a second to look up what I assumed he was asking for, he rolled his eyes and began spelling slowly and loudly: “PAUL. P…A…U…” 

Sadly, I’m too old to be treated that way and without thinking I raised my hand and said sternly “Don’t do that.” Now some oblivious retired banker is walking around Long Island asking himself why indie booksellers are so mean. My Midwestern niceness has disappeared, my helpful attitude is now nonexistent. I have been worn down by the people I’m paid to be kind to.

Read the rest here.

[writermask-0807-backupblog]

TOSHINORI YAGI X READER {TRISTIS OCULIS." or: "YOU HAVE SAD EYES," }

A/N: It's Writermask, and it's my first post as the ✨BaCkUp bLoG✨!!! I officially got permission by Mod Eve (once-upon-a-scenario, you should really check them out if u already don't follow them), and am so happy!!! 😊this is a new writing s t y l e I've tried, and I hope u enjoy!!

Warnings: ooc Toshinori, mentions of blood, implications of abuse and depression.

HIS eyes are blue. 

They're the most bluest you've ever seen- bright, bright sapphire hues, the rich spill of azure and cerulean over the black of the canvas, a slice of cloudless skies, the crystalline haze of the ocean. 

And because you can recognize and dissect the character of a person through the shapes and colors of their eyes, (you know that sounds weird, and vaguely disturbing, even inside your head)- you know his eyes are the eyes of someone trustworthy, the eyes of a caring, friendly person- not the usually jaded, maybe even angry individual you usually encounter on these late night shifts.

(It's… refreshing, in a sense. Sort of, anyway. At least he's not glaring at you, impatiently grinding his teeth as you check his things out, or radiating the stifling aura of someone intimidating and not to be trifled with (like that Yakuza man with the cold, golden eyes that you met last week, but you digress), like the usual pew of customers that trickle in at this time of the night. 

Instead, this man just looks… incredibly tired even as he manages a polite, feeble smile for you, and his skinny, frail-looking frame slumps with fatigue, like he's particularly world-weary today- as though the weight of the world is resting on his shoulders, heavy with a burden no-one but himself could possibly bear. 

There are purple shadows under his eyes, and his cheeks are sunken in, and there's a certain hollowness to the way his sunflower-hued bangs veils his thin, tired face, a certain resignation to the way the sharp planes of his shoulders are hunched together, as he droops tiredly, looking like he's about to black out at any given moment.) 

His eyes- those bright forget-me-not blues- they're the eyes of someone bright and cheerful (just… not right now), the eyes of a soft, caring person. They hold true kindness in them- the rare sort of kindness that's genuinely heartfelt, and you can already tell that this tall, lanky skeleton of a man has a big, big heart, and honestly, you have a shrewd feeling that he offers this silent gift of kindness- this unaffordable, rich gift of anyone and everyone who needs it. 

And without even knowing this stranger, you just know he's the type of person who'd make a good hero. (Or maybe, the sort of person who's already a great hero, in his own way.) But despite all that, you glimpse something below that bottomless blue of his empty gaze, something hollow and empty, almost like… 

Melancholy. Loneliness. Sadness. 

And it’s contagious, somehow, in some way or another, and your heart aches for him- because you know that feeling all too well to not be acquainted with its presence, to the agony and inner turmoil that ensues with its touch. 

The wilting look of frailty, of fragility in his lowered eyes reminds you of your own dark days- (of spending time curled in on yourself, of the constant hunger roaring through your stomach, of the gaping void of loss in your heart, the wet feel of metal flooding your mouth, of screaming and screaming and screaming for a help that never came-!) 

You blink back the sudden bitter sting of memories flooding your mind, and you stare absently at him- at this poor, broken ghost of a man and wonder if this is how you once looked- once upon a time when you lost everything and everyone and had no more purpose to live, and his items suddenly goes limp in your hand as you lower them to the surface of the counter. The words spill out before you can stop them- hold them back, and for some reason, they taste sour on your tongue as you unconsciously murmur them out loud. 

"Tristis Oculis."

The blonde startles at the sound of your voice slicing the silence apart, as though he's forgotten your presence for a moment, and then he straightens immediately, hands clenching into fists at his sides, as he goes stiff-shouldered and rigid-spined, like he's ready to be attacked. Despite the cordial smile that's still twisting his thin lips as he realizes there's only you- the entranced cashier behind the counter, there's a wary look in those tundra blue eyes as he tiredly meets your flustered gaze, but there's also confusion veiled behind the fatigue, curiosity laced behind the wariness. 

"Sorry?"

He asks mildly, and you falter, breath hitching in your chest, eyes widening in absolute horror, as you realize that you've just voiced your musings aloud, and you slap your exasperated palms over your mouth, petrified at your blunder. 

Pure and absolute mortification and embarrassment dawns on you as you realize what you'd just spoken, and you bow immediately, a hurricane of apologies falling uncontrollably from your lips, as shame weighs heavily in your chest, accompanied by the familiar stitch of gnawing guilt knitting your insides together into an uncomfortable, anxiety-induced bunch. You can feel heat rush to your face as your cheeks ignite in a wild, brilliant shade of ashamed scarlet. 

You truly are sorry sorry sorry, you really hadn't meant to offend him any sort of way, you hadn't even meant to mutter that phrase aloud, you just-... You're awkward, and not really good at this, and you're deeply sorry, you really are. Sorry sorry sorry. 

You tell him as much, your arm flailing about in wild, panicked gestures as you scrabble to bow even more deeply for apology, and you're pretty sure you've confused the poor man even more, as now he's blushing heavily too, wheezing something along the lines of "No, no, there's no need to apologize, really, it's fine!" as he forces a strained, awkward smile for your sake- an effort that doesn't go unnoticed by you, despite the terror clutching at your chest and the panic flooding your veins. 

(Really, he's too kind-hearted.)

"But really, what did you mean by that phrase? I'm not… exactly familiar with it. "

The man says, when your panic finally dies down and all formal apologies has been exchanged between the somewhat exasperated him and your horrified self, tilting his head curiously, the corners of his mouth dipping down in a small, curious frown, and despite the blush of embarrassment coloring the apples of your cheeks, you can't help but compare him to an eager puppy. An eager, adorable puppy. 

As soon as the thought forms, you snuff it out defiantly, cheeks are flaming even brighter at the- the audacity of it! He's your customer, for God's sake! 

(But really, overlooking the momentarily halted drowsiness in his lanky, skeletal limbs, the fatigue sagging his shoulders and tiredness creasing his gaunt face, he really looks… cute. Not that he doesn't look cute regardless, but that's not the point!) 

You startle nervously when you realize he's still looking at you, with those intensely blue, blue eyes, steady gaze a relentless blizzard, and you wring your hands together in a nervous tick as you begin to explain your… strangeness. 

"T-tristis Oculis. It's um," You smile awkwardly at him, hoping to ease the storm of tension rolling thickly through the atmosphere, (that apparently only you seemed to detect, as the blonde seemed too preoccupied with searching your eyes for an answer.) "It's a- um, a Latin saying. It, uh, it means sad eyes." 

You answer, stuttering around the dryness in your mouth, and you tongue feels like a heavy, unmoving weight in your mouth as you reply, fingers flexing tightly as you fist the fabric of your shirt in your clenched palms, to soothe your forever worsening anxiety, and you can feel the flush on your cheeks sear even hotter.

He stays silent, unreadable, (you get the feeling that he's normally a very expressive person, but just… not right now. Maybe you hit a nerve, or finally offended him in some way?) and you begin to panic once more. You fumble to say something, to break the awkward, heavy silence but you fail for the proper words as your mind blanks of all coherent thoughts, meek voice withering at the back of your throat as you desperately try to breathe around the knot of panic squeezing your chest, and your heart lodges in your throat, hammering wildly. 

Before you can say anything, however, he speaks first, shattering the pregnant silence, and his voice is an incredibly, deceptively soft whisper, like he's on the verge of breaking down. 

"How do you perceive my eyes as sad?"

His cobalt gaze is steady and hard- unlike the barely concealed tremors in his voice, and it pierces right through you, and as you try your very best not to shrink and fidget under the heavy weight of his gaze, you get washed by a sudden, strange sensation that feels odd in the most strangest of ways- like he's peering right into your soul. 

(But despite the firmness in his stare, you see the minute shifts, see the way he falters, the smallest of breaths hitching in his chest, the slight widening of those powder blue eyes, the edges of darkness licking at his vision. Honestly, it's tragic, in a sense, because it's like looking into a shattered mirror and seeing what had once been yourself.) 

Your heart stutters and throttles in your heaving chest, and you swallow thickly, unsure as to how to answer properly, feeling as though you're treading on very thin ice. It doesn't feel like he’s going to hurt you, however. More like how you were going to hurt him, instead. 

You're seized by a sudden melancholy, somber feeling, and you feel the embarrassment ebbing away as you meet the crystal blue of his gaze, and you feel like you're sharing something of a very private, intimate moment, despite both of you barely knowing each other at all.

You decide not to lie. This moment feels too intimate, too precious for you to do so. 

The truth is heavy and bittersweet on your tongue as you voice it aloud, and there's still a bashfulness in the way you fiddle with the hem of your shirt as you reply, cheeks flooding with crimson. (You're pretty sure you resemble nothing short of a very red tomato at this point.)

There's a note of strength, a wavering finality in your tone, however- one that leaves no room for argument. 

"You- your eyes looked sad. And I- I know it's probably offensive and probably not my place, but, um, you look like someone that's normally really happy and bright, but- just, just very tired right now. Like you're afraid and broken and you want to be helped, but there's no-one for you to call out for… "

And indeed, despite the genuine friendliness and kindness and care that's thinly veiled behind the tire brimming in the ocean blue of his gaze, he has the saddest eyes you've ever seen- like he's breathed the air of war, tasted the bitterness of death and rot- like he's lost too many people and he's afraid and too broken to lose anymore. 

(Like he's been strong for too long.) 

(There's something unsaid crossing your tongue, and despite the fact that you don't speak it out loud, you know the both of you can hear it's silent voice- because you're both survivors, and you both can recognize and understand each other's pain, hear the desperation better than anyone else ever will. 

"I know that look, because I've been there before- in that dark, dreary place you're in right now.") 

When you finally muster enough strength to raise your heavy gaze and meet his blistering stare (it's softened considerably), there's a pearlescent liquid collecting at the corners of his eyes, something raw and painful and filled with pure, unadulterated hurt smoldering in his eyes, and it makes your own eyes water with white-hot emotion.

(Because you know exactly how this feels- know how much relief and liberation fills you when someone recognizes your torment and offers help- no matter how meager it is, when your cracks are allowed to mend, when the agony lessens even if it is only by the mercy of some kind words and a gentle smile.)

And as the late evening light of the dying sun spills through the windows, the filter of waning sunlight silhouettes his sharp, lanky (not-so-stiff) profile in spools of molten gold and honey, highlighting the honeycomb color of his wild, wild mane of a hair, and his eyes, those bright, bright sapphire hues gleam like freshly cut gemstones, forget-me-not blues so very vivid and glimmering with a renewed  color and life that wasn't there before. 

He's smiling through the tears as he lifts a palm to rub at the corners of his eyes, and it's a tender, soft sort of smile, not quite as bright and cheerful as he might've wanted it to be, all sweet and appreciative and gentle as the corners of his eyes crease into half-moons with the force of it. 

(And your heart skips a beat as it lurches forward in your chest, and your breath halts, sitting still in your lungs, and your eyes widen, because his smile is so, so beautiful.) 

You suddenly realize that nobody else has noticed his pain, tried to heal his hurt the way you have, and the revelation makes your own heart ache for him in the most bittersweetest of ways, and you welcome the pain that follows. 

"And the part- the part where you said I'd make a good hero?" 

He asks, and there's sort of a hesitation- a tone of rippling hope and childish innocence in his voice that would make anyone buckle at the knees and coo at him, and you feel your cheeks flush scarlet once again. Had you mentioned that part out loud too? Gosh, you're really awkward, aren't you?

His eyes are blue, and they're brimming with a sort of childish inquisition and the rim of tears and hope that you absolutely cannot bear to crush. 

So- bearing your broadest, most brightest grin, you answer honestly, and you can't help but love the way those deep forget-me-not blues seem to light up from the inside out. 

"I fully believe it."

{BONUS}:-

(And maybe, you'll never learn the secret that the man you would come to know as Toshinori Yagi, and eventually to your best friend and then to your lover, was really the Number One Hero All Might himself, and that on that day, and many days after that, you would be his hero- the person who'd seen him at his lowest and help him climb back onto his feet once again.) 

FIN - 

[aotopmha]

I thought about talking about Dawntrail in detail only once I'm done with it, but I just finished the level 91 dungeon and the corresponding cutscenes some of the vitriol I've seen for the story is so bizzare.

Spoilers for up to the end of the level 91 dungeon!

I absolutely love that Wuk is having such a gradual arc.

The very first encounter of the level 91 quests was great and it was just a conversation where she gains some self-awareness about her own feelings via someone else going through the same. And before then, in the previous areas, she just learned about her limits. About her lack of knowledge and skill.

I saw so much vitriol thrown at the other candidates, as well, where all I see is just a gradual pushing of the curtain.

Every appearance they have is just a little bit more of hinting at their relationship with Wuk and relationships and principles of their own.

I don't know if it is paid off, but to me it comes off as neat set-up and mystery; there are some pretty interesting nuggets with Zoraal Ja in particular to me because his demeanor and his goal contrasting.

It's the contrast and juxtaposition of all of these perspectives I'm interested in the most.

I also love that the Warrior of Light is taking on a mentor role. I didn't even fully think about it, but that's a pretty perfect role for them at this point.

And I like the friendly rivalry angle with the other Scions because I was thinking it would be odd for Urianger in particular to suddenly start being secretive again when his entire arc was about not being secretive anymore. I like that they approach the other group while still having their own principles at play.

And I'm so happy they pulled back the stakes after Shadowbringers and Endwalker, rather than trying to one-up them, since they did want to continue the story and all.

It's so rare to see this kind of restraint with longer stories especially.

Lower-stakes conflicts and character arcs can exist and I like how they are doing it here.

Learning to not fear Alpacas because of a bad experience or learning about the customs of a culture is just as much of a valid moment of growth as coming to terms with the death of a loved one.

It still makes the point about learning to respect and understand what you don't.

The Azim Steppe was about this in spirit, too, and I still think it is the best part of Stormblood. And these two lil stories are good examples of it.

In terms of true issues I have with the story so far, I think the Pelupelu area dragged on just a smidge too long, but that's it.

Do I think this is some mindblowing, revolutionary character writing?

No.

Do I see how it all could come together into something really good in the bigger picture?

Yes, very much. Especially with the tone shift in the second half.

And a lot of these characters are PoC-coded (with PoC English VAs), too.

That's a really cool bonus in my eyes!

The really strong hatred, I do not get at all.

I'm willing to bet Wuk's journey is going to be full of failure and that's where the true vitriol comes from.

(Her voice actress is also a trans woman with a "non-traditional" accent.)

She will not immediately get herself together and will be sad and self-depricating and will get seasick again and people will be mad about it because she said she won't be anymore after she got some worries off her chest.

You do not suddenly start doing better when you just say it. That's not how people work. It's a process and I am expecting one. Because getting rid of preconceptions, prejudices and a unhealthy need for validation because of messy family matters is a process.

So, I don't agree with the super extreme takes at all. It's so funny that I spent like 5 hours playing the game and having fun and then I go on social media and some act like this innocous adventure story about learning to understand and respect other cultures that drags a lil is the worst thing to ever exist.

I mean I hope everyone who hates it will get a better story in the patches or next expac or outside of FF14.

But I've seen so many and much worse stories than this so far.

[twilightmalachite]

2×2 - Children on the Streets 2

Author: Akira

Characters: Yuuta, Hinata. Nagisa, Shinobu

Translator: Mika Enstars

"You took something important away from me, Aniki…!"

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Season: Spring

Location: Downtown

Hinata: Welcome~! ☆

Nagisa: Fuhahaha! God shall give you a blessing! Today the ramen gyoza meal is 200 yen off!

Yuuta: A~ni~ki~….?

What? What is this? What does all this mean?

W-Why is it you guys are peddling for Master’s Chinese restaurant…?

Hinata: Oya, Yuuta-kun! It’s a small world after all, we encounter for the first time on day three, huh?

Happy to see ya! How ‘bout a kiss?

Yuuta: *ignores* Hey, can’t you answer my questions?

Why is it that you guys, for Master’s restaurant—

Hinata: What d’you mean “why”? We’ve been here since day one!

Yuuta: Huh? I don’t understand!

Isn’t this a living on the streets experience? You can’t freeload at a restaurant, it’s against the rules!

You’re a coward! And unfair! Like Rinne-senpai!

Hinata: Because there’s no such rule~?

Nagisa: Fuhahaha! T’was a fine play by Hinata to find a loophole in the rules! Worthy of God’s praise!

Yuuta: Ran-senpai, please shut up.

Nagisa: …Ah, right, sorry. I was trying to attract customers.

Shinobu: A wise decision. It’s best not to go against Yuuta-kun in this state.

Nagisa: …Yuuta-kun these days is scary sometimes. It’s just like Hiyori-kun when his smiles don’t reach his eyes.

Shinobu: Yuuta-kun’s mental state may be worse than usual because we’ve been having a pretty hard time on the streets…

Hinata: Well, I found it a bit dicey too, since it seemed to destroy the entire premise of “experience”, but…

There’s no way I could let Ran Nagisa, treasure of CosPro, do something like live a rough life on the streets—

We’ve been doing this since day one, and so far we haven’t received any flak from the producers or anything. So, I guess that means there’s no issue, right?

Yuuta: Rrggh? Anzu-san, do your job properly!

There are things you can and cannot do! And there’s no way I could rely on Master, he’s a rare “adult worthy of respect” to me!

You took something important away from me, Aniki…!

Hinata: Eh~? But when I spoke to Master about our situation, he said, “That sounds rough. You’re welcome to stay here as long as you like.”

Yuuta: Does Master have the full picture of what we’re doing? That we’re filming for a program—

Hinata: Hmm? From what it looks like, I don’t think he’s even aware that we’ve become idols.

He’s always in a world of his own, doing his own thing as usual.

Yuuta: Well, that does sound like Master… He’s lived his entire life surviving solely on his good nature and his skills in martial arts and cooking.

Shinobu: I think that’s all one needs.

Hmm. I (se-)… I (boku) am not too familiar with him, just who is this Master of yours?

Yuuta: I told you how when we were kids, we ran away from our toxic parent, right?

Master was the one who offered us protection at that time, providing for us without asking any questions.

He’s a man of some unknown age that’s been running a Chinese restaurant in this area downtown for a long time, by the way. His Japanese is a bit dicey at times, he might be a foreigner.

Hinata: He’s such a kind guy, you know~, he taught us how to cook and do street performances, which we hadn’t known how to back then. Well, he’s a good samaritan for sure.

—But, this good samaritan of our Master seems to have gotten in a bit of trouble.

Yuuta: Huh, what do you mean? If Master’s facing some sort of trouble, I can’t ignore that either. Can you elaborate?

Hinata: Hm~, well, I don’t want to involve you and Shinobu-kun too much, Yuuta-kun.

Yuuta: You’re always like this, Aniki. You’re not the only one here with history with Master, so tell me about what’s going on.

Nagisa: …If Hinata-kun finds it hard to say, then I will instead.

…But. This might not be the type of thing we can talk about on the streets, in front of rolling cameras.

…Being so careless will bring trouble to the restaurant.

Hinata: Right! Please cut the cameras for now~! Wherever you guys are filming from right now!

Nagisa: …Fufu. I was thinking maybe to sit down and talk inside the restaurant. It’s just outside of lunchtime, so there are empty seats.

Hinata: I mean, that’s why we were attracting customers!

Yuuta: I don’t quite understand, but… Hmm, guess this is gonna be some complicated story again, isn’t it?

[ ☆ ]

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[fedor-bortnik-fmp]

Stalker. Progress. Part 4.

I dedicated an entire day towards finishing the modelling and trying to get original textures and assets for the stalker character: It didn't go well. So I decided to improvise.

Last time I was working on the shoes. I checked the overall quality of the mesh, and once I was happy with the low poly model, I subdivided the entire mesh and began sculpting.

For the shoes, I combined all the techniques that I learned through the course: I sculpted simple folds, then applied a tiny bit of generated folds for the view - and then finally used alpha brushes to add special folds and details to the shoe. Before applying the references, I looked at the original images to understand how to place cloth details: I figured I should have added more details to the back side of the shoe and in the centre of the shoe while avoiding too many details at the front and sides of the boot.

For the Shoulder pads - I just decided to apply some leather sculpt for the belt, as I think it will look more defiantly together with the metallic part, and do some simple brushwork to add a texture to the surface, and mayde some damage.

Once I was done with the sculpting, I began adapting the whole mesh for baking. I created low poly models by resetting the subdivision modifiers while still maintaining an optimised amount of vertices through the whole mesh (which is around the 95k verts, excluding the head mesh).

Preparing the low poly meshes was not that hard - I just had to duplicate the model and project the verts towards the mesh, and fix any rare problems that the projections make.

Making the hood was the hardest task since the existing multi-resolutions were too small or too big, so I had to pick the lowest level of a subdivision and manually optimise the mesh. On top of that - projection does not like corners. So I had to manually fix the problem, thankfully I just needed to drag them around the model.

In terms of UV unwrapping - I thought about hiding the seams as much as possible, but then I was suggested a Subsctance Painter tutorial video about how it's not that hard to hide seams, and I decided to give it a shot. This is a worthy idea, since relaxed seam placement allowed me to cover much of the mesh into the UV maps.

Now, we are ready to work on the textures.

The first problem that I have encountered with - is the fact that the original face model works quite differently from what I have seen. It has many material groups (probably used to achieve various effects in UE5) - but some of the materials do not really have any face data in them, all the meshes have a weird topology level and finally - the unwrap quality is way off.

While I understood the purpose of the design of this model - since it has advanced rigging capabilities, and several effects happening in the Unreal Engine. However, I really struggled with understanding the intended way of working with the model outside of the Unreal Engine. While I still had some time to figure out what am I doing wrong, I decided to watch some tutorials.

After watching the tutorials made by Bakyt Kalmuratov (2023) and Han3D (2024), I figured that I just exported textures from the Unreal Engine in the wrong way, and corrected myself with the aid of the tutorials. I also figured that it can be easy to extract some textures, while may be hard to extract others.

Originally, I wanted to insert the MetaHuman mesh into the Substance Painter, in order to understand if I do the exports properly and also apply some simple effects. But after having various problems with the import (probably since I deleted the rig and changed the mesh by automatically removing duplicates, thus involuntarily editing the UV and mesh data), I decided to scrap that and work on it during the UE export.

References:

Bakyt Kalmuratov (2023). export Metahuman in FBX format. [online] YouTube. Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vLJk82JgMu0 [Accessed 4 Aug. 2024].

Han3D (2024). Full custom metahuman workflow tutorial Blender Unreal Substance. [online] YouTube. Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pwm2zc4k1Ms [Accessed 4 Aug. 2024].

[alldesignsolutions]

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[beskarhearts]

AN INTRUDER (Connection Series Prologue)

Connection series: Prologue

Next Part

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader (no use of Y/N)

Warnings: cursing, guns, death, fighting, mentions of past trauma

Word count: almost 11K

Summary: You thought the weirdest thing you would encounter on the desolate planet of Yungbrii would be the Mandalorian intruder you found in your home. That was until you laid eyes on a small green child.

Notes:  I am finally back and in business!! I took such a long break and I have no clue if anyone cares about this story, but I still do. I wanted to start fresh with a prologue for this series before eventually getting to rewriting all the current chapters out and then releasing new ones, a lot of which I already have written or like half written. It might be a slower process because I have school and work, but it will happen! I hope you guys enjoy and please please please tell me what you think!!

____________________________________________

The jagged landscape of Yungbrii, along with the desolate cold that always encapsulated it and seeped into the bones of the few citizens who lived there, was the perfect environment for you. It was barren, with a population so small that many didn't even know a single soul resided there. The days seemingly bled into each other until life seemed like an endless cycle of complete and utter nothingness. It was a depressing planet in all honestly. No communities. No beauty to bewitch any travelers. It was plain, like the few who lived there. That is why it was perfect for you.

It sounded depressing but it was the truth. You weren't nearly old enough to be in this mindset yet but you felt like you had lived a thousand lives in this one and it was a life that didn't have much to offer you but a horrible, aching pain that couldn't be healed. And even though you had that terrible, small inkling of desperate desires inside of you, something that gnawed at you and begged for more than the life you had resigned yourself to, you buried it. Just like the land you lived on got buried in the snow and cold.

Besides you had the necessities. You had food and water. You had a bed. Hell, you even had a mechanic shop and though customers were rare, especially as the days got shorter, that was a lot more than many people in this galaxy had. It was more than you had just a year ago. So maybe this, in the end, was all you really needed. No friends. No family. No life. Just this.

But it didn't stop you from imagining a thousand different scenarios of how your life could go in the dark cloak of the night. It didn't stop you from wishing of leaving Yungbrii, traveling the galaxy or at least finding some semblance of something meaningful. Something that meant anything. But those were thoughts you kept for night, when you were tucked in your bed beneath the sheets. Alone.

____________________

"Darin, you've raised the price for this caf on me every-time I've come in here. This is getting atrocious."

"Caf is a luxury on this planet and if you don't want to pay the price, you can simply not have it." The man responded with a husky voice soaked in annoyance, his face perfectly encapsulating how much he truly didn't care about you. His crusty beard covered a good half of his place, wrinkled face but you could still see bitterness and resentment hidden under the mess.

You let out a sigh, staring at the canister of caf he had sitting on the counter between the two of you. It was the smallest one he'd gotten in also the most expensive one yet. He was robbing you blind but caf was the only thing that seemed to bring you any happiness anymore. And the last time you tried to quit caf, it had graciously cost you numerous migraines until you cracked and slammed four cups of it down in one sitting. You pulled the credits out of your pocket and slammed them on the counter. "Screw you." you muttered.

Darin, the single store owner in the area, gave you an ugly grin. The slimeball knew he had you in a chokehold and you were willing to bet your caf addiction was the only thing keeping him in business anymore. "I'm not here to make friends." he sneered, his grubby hand grasping at the credits as you yanked the caf canister towards you, holding it against your chest like it was a priceless gem. Hell, for that price it might as well had been. It better be the best damn caf you had ever let touch your lips.

"Yeah. No shit." you muttered, shuffling out of the store and into the bitter cold. You knew the comment would probably make the rate go double next week when you begrudgingly made your way back to that store, but it wasn't your day. You hadn't had a customer in weeks. And while you certainly didn't have any regulars, you'd usually have to help one person who found their way on this shit hole planet and needed some repairs.

Your feet dragged against the thick layer of snow that coated the planet, cursing yourself for not wearing your thicker jacket. You used to dream of snow when you were younger. Having grown up on a planet like Jakku, you had never seen it. Had never watched white flakes slowly flitter down, delicately falling into every corner and crevice of a planet. The first time you did see it, it took your breath away. You had stood in the middle of it, finding peace and calm in the silence. Like the snow had stifled every sound, even the constant nagging of your own mind. You had loved it.

Now your love for it was not as prevalent when it was a constant companion. Now it was just cold and reminded you of loneliness, a prospect you already confronted every time you looked around your empty home.

Rounding the corner, you finally laid your eyes on your small abode. You had only walked a couple hundred feet at best, but any walk in this kind of weather felt like it lasted miles. Or maybe you just desperately needed a hot cup of caf.

Your home, if you could call it that, was small and dated. No warm feeling of home radiated off the muddled establishment. In fact, it resembled a desolate cave more than any sort of home you had ever pictured in your mind. You didn't bother to talk to people here but you couldn't imagine any person on this planet looked at where they lived and thought of it as home. Things on Yungbrii weren't made with the intent to make you feel welcomed or comforted. The few things that stood on the barren planet were built purely out of necessity by people who had poor enough luck to land on the forsaken planet.

In all honesty, you didn't want to go inside and sit there all day, instead hoping for something of any excitement to occur. But you had nothing else so you neared the door, your numb fingers reaching out for the handle when you paused.

The door was cracked open.

You knew with one thousand percent certainty you hadn't forgotten to close the door. You didn't do things like that. You had ingrained into the deepest recesses of your brain that mistakes as small as this cost. You didn't allow these small slip ups any more. Life was too cruel for one small mistake to be just that. A mistake.

You took in a sharp breath, softly laying the caf canister on the ground as to not make noise and slipped your hand beneath your jacket, to the blaster that was firmly tucked behind you. You had you wouldn't have to use the blaster that you now gripped in your hands, your index finger ghosting the trigger that was cool to the touch. Usually pulling it out was threat enough to you. Hopefully that would still work in your favor today.

Deep breath in. Deep breath out. You let your other hand softly graze the metal door, letting it softly push open as to not make any noise. Your eyes peered into the gap, adjusting to the dull light of the room. Luckily for you, or perhaps unfortunately for you, your intruder wasn't hard to miss. You squinted your eyes, a deep furrow forming in your brow as your eyes narrowed in on the large figure whose back was turned to you.

What the fuck was a Mandalorian doing here?

You turned your head to look behind you, finding nobody else and nothing else. It wasn't until you let your eyes wander down that you noticed the large boot prints etched into the snow, leading straight to your door. You cursed yourself for your stupidity, for allowing yourself to be so preoccupied you hadn't noticed them. You had been reckless and look where it had left you.

A clang of metal against metal rang out and you sharply turned your head, back towards the Mandalorian who was still turned away from you. Even though they were now bent over, arms reaching down, you could tell they were a figure to behold. Intimidation seemed to roll off them in waves, with their sleek metal suit glistening in the sparse light of the room. It was alluring in its own way, if you were the kind of person who enjoyed the soft whispers of danger that seemed to encapsulate them. The angles and smoothness of it was contradictory to the figure itself. It was so polished and sleek, like a brand new shiny ship, almost beautiful even, but your grandmother had told you enough about Mandalorians to know the danger they presented. A person of real flesh and blood was under there, even if the outside was so cold and robotic. A person who was now an intruder.

More metal clang together as the Mandalorian stayed hunched over, arms moving around in the item that was hidden behind their hulking figure. But you knew what they were doing. They were in your tool box, rummaging through the tools that were your lifeline and one of the only reminders of your past. You felt this light a fire in you, anger pulsing through you like it was seeping into your blood stream. You should of been more annoyed that this stranger has invaded your space, and while you certainly were, you were angriest that they had the audacity to touch your tool box.

You pushed on the door more, holding your breath as to not even let the smallest noise slip. You knew Mandalorians had weapons, plenty of them at that. And all you had was the outdated blaster you now clutched tightly in your hand. The only advantage you would have was the element of surprise, though you doubted that itself would be enough.

As you finally entered the room, your slow footsteps led you closer to the intruder. You felt as light of a feather, trying your best to be the stealthiest you had ever been. You wondered if the person before you knew you were there, was just waiting for the best moment to turn around and put to play whatever mischievous plan they had.

But that moment seemed to never come, even if it felt like it was taking you minutes to finally come within a few feet of the Mandalorian. You slowly raised your arm, aiming the blaster at their back and cursing yourself for letting your arm shake in the slightest. You needed to be brave. You needed to ignore the terror inside you. You couldn't think about the fact that you were alone, with no one close enough to come help you. You had to ignore how your eyes landed on the vast variety of weapons strapped to the waist and back of the Mandalorian.

You had no one else. It was just you. Even if you were the idiot holding a blaster to beskar steel.

"Don't move." you gritted out, feeling the words barely push past your bared teeth as you continued to hold the blaster as firmly as you could. The Mandalorians body stiffened immediately at the sound of your voice, hands pulling away slowly from the tool box but staying in front of them. A few seconds passed by before the Mandalorian began to move. You gripped to the blaster tighter, finger now resting on the trigger, but they only turned their helmet to the left. You followed its line of sight. "Fuck."

You couldn't even begin to guess as to what it was. It looked like a child but perhaps you were wrong. You had never seen a creature like it at all, couldn't even name a species it had slightly resembled. It was a couple feet tall, if that, in no way appearing to be a threat to you. A large tan coat wrapped the tiny body up, seeming to swallow the creature up so much so that only its head peeked out. You watched its big wide eyes and then glanced over at the large green ears that stuck out of both sides of its head, looking almost comical. Its dark eyes were staring directly at you, a plain face looking between you and the Mandalorian, as well as the blaster you still had aimed at the mass of metal before you.

You felt your breathing quicken, the bravery you had barely been able to muster being sucked out of you by the creature you and the Mandalorian looked at. From the way it peered at the Mandalorian, it seemed to know them. It wasn't some random creature that had happened to stumble into your shop after the Mandalorian. This creature was innocent, that you knew beyond any shadow of a doubt. The Mandalorian, on the other hand, you knew nothing about. Would they bring a child with them if they had planned on doing something grim? Unless this wasn't a child and just resembled one so much.

"Don't hurt the kid." The Mandalorian spoke, the deep voice cackling through the modulator of the helmet with a natural gruffness. It was masculine and simultaneously warm and cold. It was the kind of voice that could strike intimidation and fear into your heart. It was the kind of voice that struck fear in your heart.

You kept your gaze on the child. It was a kid. An innocent kid. And the fact that the Mandalorian didn't turn around and kill you as you dumb foundedly looked down at the kid had to be a good sign, right? Or were you simply being delusional because you didn't want to become the very monster that haunted your own dreams? The kind of monster who inflicted pain on innocent people right in front of their own innocent eyes.

You lowered the hand with the blaster, your finger slipping away from the trigger but now gripping the holster so tightly that your knuckles were surely turning white. The tremor in your arm was getting worse but you pulled it to your side, willing yourself to appear strong and composed. The Mandalorian stayed hunched but completely still, helmet still aimed at the child, who was frozen in its spot and peering up at you, big eyes slowly blinking like he was taking in the moment.

"Stand up." you finally spoke out, backing up as the Mandalorian straightened out, rising from his position but not turning to face you. You had known he would be big but it didn't hit you how large he was until your eyes surveyed broad shoulders and his tall figure. The more you looked at him, the less he seemed like a man and the more he seemed like a weapon.

You glanced back over at the child when a flash of silver danced in the corner of your eyes. You barely had time to look over when you felt a force push into you. You stumbled back, now able to see the Mandalorian reaching towards your arms. You ignored the pain in your chest, yanking your arms back and kicking a leg out to kick at the Mandalorian. You were able to place a firm blow to the chest, the kind that would normally make a man fall back but only made this man slightly waver where he stood. He reached for you again and you ducked down, sliding to the right and pulling the blaster up to aim at him.

He now lunged towards you, hand grabbing your wrist that held the blaster and you grunted in pain. You pushed against him, wrestling with him as he pushed you against the wall. You peered into the visor for the first time, only seeing your face stare back at you. You gritted your teeth, trying to land a kick to his groin but your knee just made contact with his metal codpiece, making a sharp pain run up your knee.

The Mandalorian seemed barely effected by your movements, peering up at you plainly with not a single noise spilling from his helmet. Your chest heaved as he kept you pinned against the wall, your hand still clutching the blaster but your arm being gripped tightly by his warm hand.

"Let go of me, asshole." you sneered, spit spraying from your lips and onto the helmet. But the Mandalorian lacked a response, continuing to stare at you. Was he trying to determine how best to kill you?

You both became distracted when an intelligible noise rang out into the room. You looked over at the child, who was now shuffling towards you. It seemed to struggle due to its baggy clothing but seemed to be determined nonetheless, making its way towards the two of you.

"Kid, stay back." The Mandalorian finally spoke, trying to sound stern but the child paid no mind, seeming insistent with every step it made. It eventually stood right next to you guys, tiny head looking up at you two. The Mandalorian and you both looked down at it, waiting for something you both couldn't name.

A small green hand poked out of the sleeve and you saw small fingers reach towards the Mandalorian's hand that pinned your arm back. You suddenly felt the blaster slip out of your fingers from a force you couldn't name, falling to the floor with a clatter that made you almost jump. The Mandalorians arm then jerked back and he took a few steps back, looking down at the kid.

The arm slowly lowered down, big eyes blinking slowly as if the creature was collecting itself. It couldn't have pushed the gun out of your hand and moved the Mandalorian away, right?

Right?

You looked back over at the Mandalorian, who grabbed the child quickly and held him to his chest place, looking back over at you. You pondered reaching for your blaster again but knew you wouldn't use it, not with the kid here.

"What are you doing here?" you finally spoke, raising an eyebrow as the child turned to you at the sound of your voice and smiled. It seemed like the kid liked you. You hadn't exactly made a good impression so you weren't sure where it was coming from.

The helmet of the Mandalorian tilted and it unnerved you. You were pretty good at reading people and their expressions, even when they had poker face. But you had nothing to go off of with this man. No quirk of the brow or lift of a lip. No scrunched eyes or expression. All you had was his body language which was as rigid as the voice you had heard.

Silence filled the space and you shifted in your spot, bringing your hand to wrap around the wrist he had gripped. It hurt but was nothing to go crying about. You had honestly expected a lot worse. You looked back at the Mandalorian, rolling your eyes when he just continued to peer at you. "You do realize you are the one who broke in, right?"

"This is a shop." he finally spoke, speaking plainly.

You signed. No shit. "It's a mechanic shop. And my house." You then felt silly, explaining yourself to the man who had broken in to your home. "Not that any of this matters because either way, you still broke in."

"I knocked. No one answered." His hand that didn't hold the child lifted to rest on his hip.

"Oh, yeah, I totally forgot that a lack of an answer meant you could break in. Thanks for reminding me, asshole." you sarcastically answered. You cringed as the child looked back over at you when you cursed and gave him a guilty smile. "Sorry."

You were shocked when the kid broke out into a wide grin and... was that a laugh? You couldn't help the small quirk of your lip at the sound.

"I needed tools."

You deflated when the Mandalorian spoke again. You wished the kid spoke basic or any language that was remotely understandable. It seemed far better company than its caretaker (if that is what he was). "So you were breaking in to steal my tools?"

"I was going to use them on my ship and return them."

You couldn't. You couldn't offer your services to the man who broke into your house and then attacked you.

But then again... maybe you could? You couldn't deny it had been way too long since you worked and a few credits in your pocket wouldn't hurt. But even more important to you was the actual action of working on a ship. You loved fixing ships. You loved the metal and the oil and the smell of it. You loved the way your hand would cramp from holding tools all the day, the way your back would be sore for being hunched over a difficult patch of wires all day.

No. No, you couldn't. He attacked you for Makers sake.

But his kid was cute.

Ah, fuck it.

"I'm a mechanic." you stated, reflecting his position by placing your hand on your hip and cocking it out. "What kind of ship is it?"

"You tried to kill me."

You let out an exaggerated scoff, rolling your eyes. "Alright, pal. That is a wee bit dramatic. I just held a blaster to you. And to be fair, I didn't know you had a kid. Also you proceeded to actually attack me in my own home so..."

The Mandalorian cocked his head to the side, as if considering your words. "Why do you want to know?"

"I'm a mechanic. And..." you looked him up and down, surveying him. "that suit is pure beskar from the looks of it. All your weapons appear to be high quality as well. Expensive. So, I am going to assume you had the credits to pay for all of that."

The Mandalorian shifted in his spot, hand slipping to his side and his body becoming more rigid, even with the squirming child in his arms. Was it discomfort that made him do that? Did he not like that you had tried to read him? You couldn't tell but it had been the closest he had come to any sort of human emotion.

"I'm not interested." he replied. "I'll pay for your tools."

You glared back at him, eyebrow raised. "Nah. Not happening. Those tools aren't for sale."

"I'll pay for them and bring-"

"The tools aren't for sale." you repeated sternly. "No one touches them but me."

A long sigh was emitted from his modulator, looking down at the child who now glanced back at him. He seemed to consider for a second before looking back at you. "Are you any good?"

This time, you let out an incredibly exaggerated scoff, shaking your head and crossing your arms. The pure audacity of man. "First of all, I am the only mechanic on this planet so you aren't going to find anyone else to help you out. Second of all, I am a hell of a mechanic. The best you have ever met. I can guarantee it."

Yeah, that sounded cocky. But it was probably true.

"How much?"

You smirked, feeling like you were finally inching towards the deal you desperately craved, like the hit your morning caf gave you but much stronger. "What kind of ship is it?"

"A ST-70 Assault Ship."

"A Razor Crest?" you let out a dry chuckle. You had only seen once before. It was what you would definitely refer to as a vintage model. It was pre-Empire, meaning it lacked a lot of new technology that most ships now had. Also mean depending on how well taken care it was, almost all the parts could be original would mean it was incredibly run down.

The Mandalorian paused. "It is well used."

You had been a mechanic long enough to know what that meant. That meant it was a piece of crap hunk of junk. And if it was that old? It was probably be better as a junk pile than a mode of transportation. "What is wrong with it?"

"The hyperdrive won't work."

That was something you could fix easily. Depending on the extent of the damage, it could take longer but no more than a few days as long as you had all the right tools and parts. Ordering tools to a planet like this meant going to Darin, but that was something you were willing to do. For the right price.

"Seven thousand credits. Maybe more if we need to order parts."

The Mandalorian scoffed. "I'll find someone else."

"Like I said, you won't find anyone else. Nor will you find another ship on this damn planet. Or anyway off it without your own." He tilted his head, seeming to not believe you. "Trust me."

"Seven thousand credits is a steep price."

You smirked. "Not for the quality work I provide. But hey, don't pay it. But then you and the kid will be rotting away on this planet for the rest of your days. Hell, maybe we could even be neighbors."

The Mandalorian looked down at the child, a grunt ringing out in the room before he begrudgingly agreed. "Fine."

You grinned, feeling for the first time in weeks the smallest bit of your old self come back to life. You glided past the Mandalorian, bending down to grab your bag and tool box before looking back up at him. "Take me to the ship.”

____________________

You couldn't help the grimace on your face. It looked older than you had imagined it would in your head. And you hadn’t been imagining anything good in your head. It was dated and no attempt had been made to make it look like it wasn’t pre-Empire. It wasn’t falling apart or anything, at least not from what the average Joe could tell. You supposed you could be grateful for that. But you had assumed it would look a little more upgraded than it did, considering the appearance of the Mandalorian himself. But perhaps he was old school, preferring the older aspects of the ship.

The Mandalorian was stood beside you, hands on his hips as his T-visor looked over the ship. The small child was at your side, it’s small hand resting on your calf as you both stood in the snow. The little one had insisted on walking with you the whole way from your home to the patch of land where the Razor Crest resided. Every time the Mandalorian had tried to pick the little one up, he had let out small protests and reached towards you. You weren’t exactly sure where his fascination with you came from, but you felt similarly. You imagined most people were taken aback by the child’s appearance but you were still certain it had been he who had forced that blaster on of your hand and pushed the Mandalorian back. It had to have been.

There was also this inexplicable feeling that rushed through you each time you made eye contact with the kid. He was a total stranger you had only known for about a half hour now, but there was a familiarity in him. A kind of comfort. It made you feel warm and you just felt grateful to have met him.

You looked down at the child who glanced up at you. “Your dad didn’t mention that this ship was older than the galaxy itself.”

"I'm not his father." The Mandalorian quickly corrected, looking down at the kid briefly before looking back up at the ship. You wanted to ask about a million questions. Who was the kid? Why did he have the kid? What the hell were they doing anywhere near this planet? Did he look like the kid under the helmet?

But you could tell that the kid and him cared for each other. You could feel it coming in waves from the child, like this warm feeling bloomed within him whenever he was with the Mandalorian. A warm feeling that could be best described as family. Belonging. You knew that feeling meant more than anything else in the world and everybody, even stone cold Mandalorians, probably yearned for that kind of connection.

Or maybe you were just projecting your desires onto the man of beskar.

"Either way, your ship is a mess." You muttered directly to the Mandalorian.

"It works fine. I just need the hyperdrive fixed." He insisted.

You snorted, looking down at the child to give him a face that said 'Give me a break'. And you swore the child returned the same one to you, like 'You're telling me'. "This ships looks like a flying piece of junk metal."

"Are you going to fix it or not?"

You huffed, rolling your eyes. In no way would you consider yourself to be a particularly social person, although you suppose in the past you used to be, but this Mandalorian was really taking the cake. Everything he said was short and clipped, directly to the point. He had never at any point introduced himself, even when you told him your name, or even apologize for breaking in which still irked you.

Let's just put it this way. He should count himself very lucky he had a cute kid. Or maybe you were lucky he had the cute kid.

You strolled up to the hyperdrive, giving it a long careful look. It was surprisingly in better shape than you had expected given its age. You had expected something to be broken because of old age but that wasn't it at all. Something had gotten stuck in the hyperdrive, slamming into the transpacitor and tearing it up. You saw a few other small things, including a tweaked power flux connector that would eventually wear down. But otherwise, it was pretty well taken care of.

"You've got a mechanic, already?" you asked, still peering into the ship and taking a look at all the individual parts.

"Yes." he answered.

"They did a decent job, especially with a ship this old. Something got in your hyperdrive. You are gonna need a new transpacitor. I'm gonna need to order a new one."

"You don't have one?" he asked.

You sighed and looked over at him. "Oh yeah, I always have a ST-70 Assault ship transpacitor laying around because of how common these things are."

"How long will it take to get here?" he plainly responded. You were getting annoyed with his lack of humor. With how bland his personality was, you were probably the funniest damn person he'd ever met. He should be grateful for your jokes.

With a huff, you answered blandly. "Eh, if I order it now, it will probably take a day to find one and then a few days to get here, if we are lucky. Maybe a little longer. In the meantime, I can fix up this connector for you, maybe a few other thi-"

"That's too long." The Mandalorian interrupted, his gaze frozen on you.

Your shrugged. "This is Yungbrii. You can try to fly to another planet without hyperdrive but it will take longer than it would to just sit still and wait for the part."

The Mandalorian let out a loud sigh. "I need to go fast."

You knew that urgency that was laced in his words. You had had that very urgency yourself. The kind that made your skin crawl and puts you on edge. You looked down between him and the child and slowly asked your next question. "Are you two running from something?"

His helmet stilled and you froze in your spot, worrying you had overstepped an unspoken line in the sand.

"No." he said.

You didn't believe him though. You didn't need to see his face to know that he was lying. And while you were curious, it ultimately didn't matter what was going on. If you had to bet your life on it, you had a feeling it had to do with the kid who stood between you two.

So you just let out a curt nod. "Let me see what I can do."

____________________

Darin had been a real dick about it and you about damn near killed the man, but after several very colorful threats, he found the part for you. And he absolutely screwed you over with the price, practically robbed you blind, but he could get it here in two days. A hell of a lot faster than you had hoped.

You made the trek back to the Razor Crest, pockets a lot lighter with all the credits you had paid, a large container of caf, and a power flux connector in hand.

The Mandalorian had stayed in place with the child by the ship, not wanting anyone else to see the two of them. When you pulled up to the ship, you noticed the door to it was open and paused before going up the ramp. You didn't want to invade anyones privacy and just stroll in. But you wanted to share the good news and be incredibly noisy and check out the place.

And hell, he had broken into your home so screw it. You began to make your way up the ramp, each stomp of your foot against the metal ringing out into the eerie silence of the nature that surrounded you. You let out a sigh of relief when you entered. It was cold but a little bit warmer, bringing some life into your chilled joints.

The inside of the Crest looked older than the outside of it, at least from what you could see of the hull. It was a pretty big ship for its age but it was still tight. You saw a carbonite locker in the corner, as well as what you assumed was an arsenal where he stored his weapons. In the opposite corner was a small hatch leading to what you assumed was the cot. The Mandalorian stood in that very corner and looked back at you.

You couldn't help the small chill that ran down your spine as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed and helmet aimed right at you in complete silence. It was eerie, unnerving. You jerked your head towards the carbonite locker. "So you are a bounty hunter?"

You cursed yourself for saying something so dumb and obvious. You blamed it on the fact that you hadn't really socialized with someone in so long but it probably had more to do with how intimidating of a figure the Mandalorian was.

The Mandalorian never asked and you shrugged. "Fair 'nough. That was a dumb question." you stood in your spot, beginning to tap a foot when you lifted your arm up that held onto the jug of caf. "Want some caf?"

The Mandalorians head angled in on you more, tilting slightly. You cringed at the movement. "I don't know what I said wrong that time."

"I don't take my helmet off. This is the way."

Your eyes slightly widened and you lowered your arm back down, pulling the caf into your chest like a security blanket. This is the way? What the fuck did that mean?

Instead of asking more questions, you looked down at the floor to find the kid sitting there, playing with a small spherical metal bulb in his hands. It was the furthest thing from a proper toy but the kid looked absolutely enthralled by it. He lifted his hand up to show you the ball and you gave him a small smile. "Hey kid, want some caf?" you joked.

"He can't have caf." The Mandalorian stated matter-of-factly.

You now let out a Mandalorian-esque sigh, giving him a tired expression. "It was called a joke. Get a sense of humor."

You tried to relax, twisting open the cap to your bottle and taking a big sip of caf. You felt the hot beverage course through you and let out a content sigh, a soft smile etching into your face at the taste of such wonder. You turned back to the Mandalorian. "You ought to consider yourself lucky to have met me. Transpacitor will be here in two days, which is practically light speed compared to how long things take to get here."

"Did you mention us?"

You quirked your head to the side, shaking it slowly. "No. Seemed like you guys wanted to stay incognito."

"Good."

The Mandalorian stomped away from the corner, making his way towards the arsenal and looking at his guns. You wondered if maybe his was uncomfortable. Or if didn't realize how awkward and unwelcoming he was. Either way, you felt awkward and also neglected. You had just given him good news. Hell, great news for a planet like this. He couldn't even bother with a response that consisted of more than one word.

"You know you could thank me for helping you." you muttered out, looking down at your feet. "I had to threaten a man to get that part here this fast." You decided it much better to not mention that threatening the disgusting guy had brought you much joy. You figured it would be counterintuitive.

The Mandalorian didn't turn to you but nodded to himself. "Thank you."

You took that as a small victory, figuring something like that wasn't common for a man like that to say. You looked at the kid, as if to say 'Hey, look at the neat trick I just did'. He just shook his head back at you and looked back down at his ball. You felt your shoulders slump, feeling deflated. You supposed a simple thank you wasn't that much a win. Actually just the bare minimum.

Usually, this was when you would walk off and start replacing the power flux connector. In all honesty, that is what you just should of done. But you felt some need to try to make conversation with the Mandalorian. He would be hanging around for the next couple days and you'd be working on his ship. A simple conversation wouldn't hurt.

You also credited this desire to the kid. You felt like the Mandalorian was important to the kid, and you found yourself really liking the kid. You didn't even know why you did as much as you did since you had just met the thing. But you felt a connection to him, like you had met him before. He was also stinking adorable and you wanted to squish his little face, but that was a thought far too embarrassing to admit out-loud to yourself and certainly not to this tin can over there.

"So, you have a name?" you asked.

The Mandalorian now turned to face you and you felt yourself clam up at the position you were in. You were embarrassing yourself, trying to make conversation with a guy who would probably be doing anything other than talk to you. So instead of stopping, you decided to ramble. "It's just, y'know, I told you my name. And it is typically courteous to give somebody your name when you introduce yourself. Not that you even bothered to do that but whatever that doesn't really matter."

The Mandalorian stayed quiet and you felt your face slightly flush in humiliation. But once again you let your lips open again and felt more words you couldn't even control spilling out. "I don't usually talk this much. Like at all. I think the kid is making me do it."

You felt silly blaming the kid, especially when he looked up and let out a small patoo that sounded just as innocent as you knew it would.

"You can call me Mando." the man finally spoke and you shook your head.

That was enough discomfort than you could handle in one single conversation. "Great. Cool. Okay. I am going to go work on your ship."

You quickly turned around and proceeded to slam into the wall, not paying attention to the fact you were in a small hull of a ship while trying to rush out of it. You let out a small groan but threw a thumb up and made your way down the ramp. "I'm good. Not that you care."

And you swore you could hear the child laugh as you made your way down. Little womprat.

____________________

You didn't know why but you had spent the following two days constantly in the company of the Mandalorian and his child.

Actually you knew why. Cause his kid was the cutest thing you'd ever seen and your new best friend. And the Mandalorian was a tweaker who would never allow the child out of his sight, especially not when he was with you.

You probably should of been insulted by the fact that he didn't trust you, but to be fair, you didn't give him much to trust you with. Not that he had tried at all to get to know you or talk to you. He would just stand afar, hand always carefully placed on his hip, mere inches from his blaster, and his T-visor trained on the child and his surroundings at all times. It was like he was always on, never having a moment to be human because he was constantly on edge. You understood that feeling, had for a long time now.

In fact, the thing that had made you feel the most human in a long time was the tiny booger sitting next to you in the snow that was slowly melting in small patches. You had busied yourself for two days, fixing things on the ship. It was wonderful. You were keeping your hand and mind busy, not spending long days alone, hoarded up in your room with only a cup of caf to look forward to. It was also nice to have company.

You couldn't speak to the child, or rather you could but you weren't sure if he could understand you. But for some reason, you had a feeling that the child understood a lot more than one would guess. You would talk to the kid, telling him what you were doing on the ship or just telling him random stories, and it seemed like sometimes he would respond to you. He would blabber away in his own language, tiny noises spilling from his lips that you couldn't understand but you hooked onto, listening intently like you were having a real conversation. And maybe you were. Maybe that is why the child would always chuckle when you respond to his foreign language like you were the silly one.

The child would spent most of his day with you, until eventually he got grumpy enough he would start whining and pouting his tiny lips. It was then that the Mandalorian would come scoop him off the ground, giving you a nod as he took the child away to take a nap or feed him.

It was getting to that time today, the big eyes of the small creature starting to droop slowly, a dazed expression of sleepiness taking over. As if on cue, you heard the crunch of the snow as the Mandalorian marched over, each step of his boot leaving a pronounced print in the thin layer of snow. "C'mon, kid."

You looked up at the two as he held the child in his arms and couldn't help the small smile that danced on your lips. They were a family, for better or for worse. A bizarre one at that, but did it really matter who was in your family or what they looked like when you shared that kind of bond? You could tell in the way that the Mandalorian would allow the tiny green hand of the child to wrap around one of his fingers and the way the child would settle into his chest, nuzzling into the chest plate of armor as if he had done it countless times.

"Does the kid have a name?"

The Mandalorians head slowly looked over at you. "Not one I know."

You nodded. "I've been calling him womp rat and he seems to like it."

Even in his half asleep haze, you saw the child smile softly at the nickname. Oh boy, you were becoming a sap for the little guy with the way it made your heart melt.

The Mandalorian nodded, as if taking your joke seriously and giving the nickname consideration. You didn't bother to say much else of anything when he walked towards the entrance to the ship on the other side, rounding the corner and disappearing.

You looked down at the snow, where the soft imprint from where the child had sat was etched into the white blanket. You felt stupid, feeling so close to the creature but it felt like you couldn't help it. Today the transpacitor was supposed to show up, meaning the Mandalorian would leave with the child in tow. And you would miss the company.

You were zoned out when the Mandalorian returned and your head jerked over to look at him, eyebrow raised. He usually stayed with the child in the ship while he napped but he had probably come asking about the ship.

"I should probably head to the shop right now. The part should be in by now." you explained, grabbing your bag off the ground you brought with you everywhere and slinging it over your neck.

"You are good with the child."

You couldn't help the shocked expression on your face, looking into the T-visor of his helmet as if trying to make eye contact. You wondered if you were, if his mysterious eyes were looking into yours. "Thanks." you hesitantly said, not sure if it was a compliment when he more stated it as if it was just a fact.

"You have children?" you assumed it was a question, even though it said it very similarly to his previous declaration.

You couldn't help snorting. "Oh Maker, no. I have nothing."

You froze up, not realizing why those words had slipped off your tongue so easily. It was true, but it wasn't something you had to advertise. You pulled yourself back together, both hand clutching on the strap of your back as you squared your shoulders back. "I'm going to go get the transpacitor. Be back."

You didn't wait for a response, not that you expected one, and moved hastily towards the store. The Mandalorian made it clear he needed to get moving quickly and in the end, you were only a mechanic who was going to make good on your promise.

You approached the rackety small storefront, pushing the metal door open with a shove and stumbling inside. A stale smell enveloped your nostrils, just like it always did, and you scrunched up your face. The lighting in the store was dim but you looked around, locking eyes with a pair of men in the corner who looked back at you intently. They were shady looking figures, wearing numerous scarves and cowls probably in the name of warmth. But you were willing to bet those were for more nefarious reasons. You turned away from them and paid no mind. Yungbrii wasn't sprawling with model citizens. People on this planet were here for a reason. They either wanted nothing to do with the galaxy and the politics that came with it, or they were running away from something. You were in the latter group and tried to reserve any judgement you could.

You strolled up to the counter where Darin was looking down, seemingly invested in a card game he was playing with himself. “Hey, my part come in yet?”

Darin didn’t bother to look up, holding up a grubby finger to silence you as he stayed peering down at his cards. You let out a sigh, feeling impatient after only waiting a few seconds. “You are playing against yourself for Makers sake. How hard can it be?”

Darin let out a growl, shaking his head as he looked up. “You made me lose concentration.”

“Oh shit, you are probably gonna lose against yourself again.” You sarcastically muttered.

Darin rolled his eyes, jerking to grab a box off the counter behind him. “Why you in such a rush for this part?”

“Just hand it to me, Darin.” you plainly stated, trying to ignore the way you could feel the eyes or the two men in the back corner staring right at the back of you.

He placed the package on the counter, shoving it forward towards you but not letting go of it, even when you began to tug at it. “Can I help you?”

“You just haven’t had a customer in a long while is all. And I haven’t seen any new faces around the shop.” He gruffly stated. You noticed how his eyes briefly flitted with the men in the corner, who seemed very interested in your conversation. You didn’t like the way he was speaking, as if in code for the ears of the men in the back.

“Well I’m just flattered to know after all this time you have cared about me and my business so deeply.” You said, quirking an eyebrow and narrowing your eyes. “Now can I have my part?”

“I heard it was one of them Mandalorians.”

You jerked around when you heard a slurred voice in the corner. To no surprise, it was one of the men. Looking them square in the face as they slowly approached you, you could see they were brothers of some kind. And very drunk.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” you asked.

“We’ve just heard something is all.” the other brother responded.

You didn’t like this. You felt a pit in your stomach form. You certainly as hell hadn’t told anyone about the Mandalorian or his child. The Mandalorian hadn’t left his ship and certainly wouldn’t have shown up here with the child in tow.

Meaning someone was keeping an eye on the Mandalorian. Which meant they probably knew of the kid as well.

You chose not to answer them or threaten them, instead giving all three men a curt nod. “Have a good one, boys.”

You pulled the box in to your arms, trying to appear as cool as a cat, relaxed and calm as you slinked out of the store like you hadn’t a single care in the whole galaxy. You exited, letting the door softly close behind you and taking precise steps until you were far enough away from the store to show your discomfort. You then began to quicken your speed, rushing towards the Crest and checking behind you occasionally for any unforeseen visitors.

When you finally approached the Razor Crest, you hollered out the nickname you had been given for the first time. “Mando!”

You heard footsteps quickly stomp down the ramp of the ship and the Mandalorian came into the light, looking at you.

“You’ve got any friends I should know about?” You asked, dropping the box down on the ground softly as you breathed in small huffs.

He didn’t respond but his hand dashed towards his hip, fingers grazing over the blaster and that was answer enough.

“There were two brothers at the shop, real nice looking ones too, asking about you. I haven’t told anyone about you which means we have an uninvited visitor at some point.”

"How quickly can you get us out of here?" The Mandalorian asked directly.

“I can swap this out in probably an hour, have you up and running then. But you’ll have to fully hook it up once you land where you are going next.” You felt your cheeks flush at the urgency of it all, trying to ignore the pit that had settled into your stomach.

"I'll give you ten thousand credits if you can make it half an hour."

You felt your mouth dry up. Not because of the amount of money even though it was obscene. But because you knew this meant this was bad. Worse than you had feared. And it probably meant the kid was in trouble.

Mando shook his head, beginning to open the box. You quickly rushed forwards, grabbing the transpacitor out of the box as soon as it was opened and rushing towards the ship. The Mandalorian rushed towards the open door to the ship, joining you moments later with the child in tow. You felt better being able to see the kid, who was safe and sound. The child looked at you both with a confused expression and you were wondering if it was because his nap got cut short or because he felt it too.

A chill ran down your back as you tugged the old transpacitor out, tossing it to the ground and taking the new one from the Mandalorian. He then reached into your tool box, handing you each tool as you called out for it. You’d normally yell at someone for touching those tools but you figured right now wasn’t the time.

“I need a five milimeter bolt.” you called out, head practically shoved into the hyperdrive, your hands toggling at something. When there was more clanging of metal and a longer wait, you pulled your head out and looked down at the Mandalorian who was digging around in the box.

“You don’t have one in here.” Shit. You of course left that one at the shop. “I have one in the ship. Give me a second.”

He stomped out with the child in his arms, out of sight. You tried to get back to work but couldn’t help how unnerved you felt by not being able to see the two of them in front of you. They were just on the other side of the ship but this bad feeling in your bones told you to check on them.

You pulled away from the hyperdrive, pulling the blaster off your hip that you had eventually retrieved again and clenched it in your hands. You slowly crept in the snow, trying your best to prevent making any unnecessary noises. You followed along the walls of the ship, delicately making each step until you rounded the corner.

Sure enough, the bad feeling you had was right. One of the brothers was inching towards the entrance of the ship, blaster raised in front of him. This wasn’t just a drunken man with a blaster. His arm was steady and his focus was sharp. He had purpose. He was there for a reason.

And you felt your blood freeze when you realized the child was in there.

Don't let anything happen to the child.

You didn’t have time to yell out a warning when the Mandalorian, child still in his arms, came into the light, visible to you and the man with cruel intentions. Or maybe you did have time but couldn’t find it in yourself to yell. You couldn’t tell when it felt like everything moved at light speed.

Instead of second guessing or worrying, you did what you knew you had to do deep down. You finally pulled back on the trigger and saw the flash of light before you had time to fully process that you had actually done it.

Your arm jerked back at the force of the blaster and you clamped both eyes shut, not wanting to see if you had been too late. You didn’t even open them when you heard footsteps rush towards you and a hand grab your shoulder.

“Are you okay?” the voice sounded and you let yourself let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding when you realized it was modulated. Slowly, you let your eyes open and blinked slowly when you saw the helmet of the Mandalorian tilting down at you, only inches away.

You felt his hand push you slightly, as if trying to jerk you awake but you just dumbly looked up at him. Were your ears ringing from the shot or were you just in shock? You slowly looked away from the helmet that intently looked down at you, eyes landing on the figure a few feet away from you. It was a limp figure, laying haphazardly in the snow like it was a doll that had been thrown onto a child’s floor. Like it was meaningless and nothing. Certainly didn’t look like a real life human.

Your hands began to violently shake as your chest began to heave, the blaster slipping from your fingers and landing with a soft plop on the snow. It landed so delicately like it was a weapon that could cause such life changing events to occur. You blinked quickly, fighting back tears bit you saw the outline of the Mandalorians figure begin to swim in your eyes.

“You need to breathe.”

Why did he sound so distorted? His voice was always modulated but it was usually so clear. Now it sounded muddled and like you were hearing it but now actually hearing it at all. Like a broken recording of it.

A small boise broke you out of your trance and you began to slowly blink, feel the air return to your lungs. It was until the shaking had mostly subsided and you felt like you were no longer drowning that you felt the small warm hand on your arm, patting at it softly.

You looked into the face of the child, who looked up at you softly and felt a wave of comfort wash over you. He was the reason you had done that. You didn’t know what had urged you to do it or what had told you, but you knew deeply and definitively that the child was important. That he needed protecting.

You had done the right thing.

“You okay?”

You finally looked at the Mandalorian and felt like you were getting your first real look at him. His chest was moving faster than you had ever seen it before, even when you two were fighting. Small puffs of air were just barely escaping from his modulator, so quiet that you could only hear the do you his proximity. His gloved hand that wasn’t holding the child was clutching onto his blaster like his life depended on it. It was the most human he had seemed.

“I’m okay.” you finally answered, your voice sounding firmer than you had initially expected.

“Thank you.” he spoke and this time, you knew he meant it.

You nodded and stepped back. “Do you have the tool?”

“The what?” Mando spoke, seeming genuinely confused.

“The bolt.” The man nodded, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a rusted bolt that he held out to you. You clutched it tightly in your hand and nodded. “I’ve got to get you guys out of here.”

You were on autopilot, making your way to the new transpacitor and getting working on it immediately. You would have to deal with the consequences of your actions later. For now all the mattered was getting them out of here.

Later you would ask yourself all the questions bubbling in your head that you were ignoring like why were they here? What did they want the Mandalorian for? What was going on? Later you would have to deal with the other brother who would surely want to know who killed his kin. Later you would face the fact that you had actually killed someone, taken another’s live into your hands, and squashed it. But that would be for later.

For now, you were going to do what you did best. Fix things.

It took a couple minutes but you finished the last completely necessary touch. It need more work, some finishing touches, but this would be enough for now to get them out of here and far away. You grabbed your tool box and tore around the corner, finding the Mandalorian standing at the entrance of the ship with a blaster held firmly in his hand.

“Where is the kid?” you asked.

“Inside. Safe.”

You nodded, feeling peace at the words but also a pang of pain in your chest. You wanted to say goodbye but you didn’t want to waste time or put the kid in danger. You supposed this would be it. The end.

You knew it was coming but it someone hurt more than you had expected. You didn’t know how the child had managed to snag such a big chunk of your heart in two days but he had, enough so for you to kill to protect him. But you knew deep down, in your bones, the child was special. He had a power, one you could probably guess as to what it is, but one you couldn’t possibly fully comprehend.

You let out a small sigh. “You guys are good to go. You should get out of here before the brother comes.”

The broad helmet tilted, his T-visor trained on you. “He will come for you.”

You knew that was true. In all honestly, you’d probably given yourself a death sentence. But there wasn’t much you could do about that, nor would you change anything you had done in the last few days.

“I’m tough. I’ll be fine.” you insisted, giving him a hesitant smile.

“You didn’t have to do what you did.”

You paused, thinking a moment before saying the words you truly meant. “I did.”

The Mandalorian nodded. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.” you said, beginning to step backwards. “Tell the kid I said bye.”

You began to turn around and walk away when his voice rang out again. “The ship will need more work soon.”

You turned, tilting your head and nodding slowly. “Yeah.”

“And you are sure there is no way off the planet?”

You were confused, eyebrows scrunching up. “Your ship can run and go into hyperdrive. Last you long enough to get to your mechanic. I did a good job.”

“I meant for you.”

“Oh.” you sighed out loud and shrugged your shoulders. “No. But I’ll be fine.”

The Mandalorian nodded, turned around and beginning to walk up his ramp, into the ship. You turned the opposite direction, beginning to walk towards your home. You probably shouldn’t go there, considering the fact that Darin knew where you lived and he would probably tell the brother of the man you killed.

But you had no where else to go. So you would go home, maybe make a cup of caf, and wait.

The thud of the Mandalorians stepped paused and you also stopped in your tracks, not turning around but listening.

“Get on the ship.”

Your whole body whipped around, finding the Mandalorian facing you. He stood confidently in his spot, as if what he just said was something he fully supported. Like he had just proposed something atrocious.

“What?” you choked out.

“You saved the kid. I can’t leave you here.” The Mandalorian explained before giving you another firm, “Get on the ship.”

You looked behind you, to the path you were just about to take home. But you froze at the thought of home. Yungbrii wasn’t home. It was hollow and cold and desperate, just like your life had become. You hadn’t felt at home in a long time and the first thing to give you the tiniest sliver of comfort that came with the idea of home was the soft smile of the child.

So for the first time in a very long time, you let that little bit of hope that bloomed in your chest every night like a siren call burst into a fiery flame. You didn’t feel like burying it away this time and succumbing to the life you had settled for. You had felt more alive the past few days than you had in a long time and that feeling alone was worth stepping outside of the tall walls you had put around yourself.

And in the end, the Mandalorian was only offering you a ride. Maybe whatever was next to follow would offer you something so much better. So much more meaningful.

You felt yourself nodding, hands clutching onto the strap of your bag. You already had everything you absolutely needed in there.

What was stopping you?

You felt one foot step forward and when the act made you feel lighter, you continued on until you reached the ramp and faced the Mandalorian. “Let’s go.”

You both moved into the foreign ship, watching the door close on Yungbrii.

But it didn’t feel like the door was closing. It felt like one was opening.

____________________

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[wonlouvre]

hiii i love your writing so much! i wanted to request maybe a junhui + reader barista au >< the plot can be anything i'm just a sucker for fluff aaaa

hope you have a great day <33

you | w. jh.

pairing: barista!junhui x g.n. reader genre: fluff warnings: mentions of food (please tell me if i missed anything!) word count: 1.2k+

💌: i am currently working from home and finally managed to finish this! thank you so much for requesting anon! i hope you like it:’)

The coffee shop you frequent has a newly hired barista. You assumed that said barista is new because ever since you started taking comfort in their coffees and pastries while studying, this is the first time you’re seeing the tall and handsome man. He’s really handsome, you have to admit and emphasize that. Most especially up close, where you can fully grasp almost every detail of his sharp features; you can tell he’s out of this world. 

“Hi! I’m Junhui,” he happily greets before taking the cap off of the pen he’s holding, “What can I make for you today?”

Junhui. You remember his name and his voice. If you can fall in love with the sound of a voice, it would be his. 

You reciprocate his happiness by answering his question in great delight (pretending you don’t have two final papers due by the end of the week). You notice how Junhui’s smile grows as he gets your order down. Although he really won’t be making your drink as he takes charge of the cashier, you don’t mind. After punching in your payment, he hands you the coaster that would buzz once your order is ready. You thank him and leave a generous amount of tip. 

Not because you’re trying to impress him or give him any special treatment. You just think he deserves it. Actually, everyone in this coffee shop deserves it for how they have given you a place to study comfortably and at the same time a place to have fresh brewed coffees and baked goods. Junhui is now a new addition to the staff that you’re grateful for. 

The first meeting with Junhui was good and you thought you were off for a great start. You thought he would remember your name, your usual order or maybe even your face. But to your dismay, he doesn’t.

At all. 

It’s a little disheartening. Just a little bit. You’re pretty much torn on how you feel about him anyway. For one, you’re used to the regular baristas here greeting you every time you come in. It doesn’t matter what time or day it is. But, how come Junhui doesn’t even glance up at you unless you’re talking to him directly? 

On the other hand, you also don’t know why you have so many high expectations for him. Do you fancy him? Or are you just attracted because he’s handsome? 

Nonetheless, you ignore your disappointment and continue going to the coffee shop like how you always do. What you feel doesn’t matter anyway. What matters at the moment is you getting through the semester without any failing marks so that you can get the stress free vacation you’ve been yearning for.

You can always go to the library, but a warm cup of coffee and a decadent slice of chocolate cake is too good to turn away from. 

“Hi Junhui,” you shyly greet as you stand on the counter with your wallet at hand. 

The coffee shop is quiet right now as it is almost nine in the evening. You haven’t been going during your usual late afternoon study session due to circumstances so you haven’t seen Junhui on his regular shift. But tonight, it seems like he took the night shift. This is the first time you’re seeing him after a while. 

“Hey.” Junhui smiles, his pen ready. “I’ve been excited to see you all day.”

That last sentence makes you blink in confusion. Huh? You look behind you and the rest of your surroundings to check if he’s really talking to you. When it’s just really you that he’s talking to, you silently point a finger to your chest, confirming if it’s really really you that he’s talking to. 

Junhui only laughs. “Yes, you. Now, what can I get for you?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “What have you done to the Junhui of this place? Who are you?”

“Y/N, are you going to order or not?”

You gasp in horror (dramatically). “Did you just say my name?”

Junhui rolls his eyes. “You know what, no free cookies for you tonight.”

“No!” You hold a hand out in surrender. “Okay, okay. One cafe latte please.”

That night was both amusing and bewildering. You have no idea where the sudden turn around came over Junhui, but you will take it. 

From then on, Junhui’s smile is a little different and you can see it in his eyes. He still rarely calls your name but when he does, it’s genuine. He still asks for what you’ll be ordering, but it doesn’t bother you anymore. 

“I think scrolling through every Instagram story is not a good idea if you really want to get at least an eighty on that essay.”

In this particular study session, Junhui has kept an eagle eye on you. He’s not taking any excuses from you when he clearly ordered you to not touch your phone in exchange for a free slice of cheesecake. 

You pout when Junhui picks up your mug, pouring the refill he promised when you reached three hundred words. “Can’t I take a break now and have the cake?”

Junhui gives you a “in your wish” look while planting his other hand on his hip. “Nope. Your goal is to finish tonight so all that’s left to do is to review and revise.” 

“Since when did you become so strict,” you grumble and return your attention back to your laptop. 

“Ever since I started giving you free pastries, that’s when,” he replies and takes the chair opposite your side. 

You scowl. “I can always pay. You’re the one that’s declining.”

“I’m not complaining,” Junhui says and picks up one of your notes. 

Junhui admitted later that it was hard for him to approach you differently from how he usually addresses every customer in the coffee shop. Not because he doesn’t like you. Of course not. It was difficult because just like you, he found you cute and even cuter whenever he hears you call his name or whenever he sees your happy smile as you tell him your order (even though he already knows). 

Junhui’s guess is you make him speechless and that he gets stuck with his regular programming as a cashier slash barista catering to the caffeine needs of everyone. As much as he wants to be your Junhui, he can’t help but be blown away by you, your face, voice, presence.

You.

However, when you started to visit the cafe late and during his off, he knew he needed to change and develop your awkward encounters into something else, something intimate and affectionate in the sincerest way possible. That’s how he ended up finally and excitedly calling your name. 

That’s also the beginning of the best relationship you could ever ask for.  

“Shouldn’t you be going back to work?” You ask, confused as to why he’s lounging around. 

“Sweetheart, my shift ended thirty minutes ago.”

Your eyes widen, immediately looking at the time. It’s way past ten and you’re still here. Way past closing hours. Way past Junhui’s shift. You can’t believe you lost track of time. 

“I’m so sorry,” you apologize and quickly gather your belongings. “I didn’t notice the time.”

“Hey, hey,” Junhui calls and holds your hand to stop. “It’s okay. Calm down.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You pout and zip close your backpack. 

Junhui just gives you his signature grin and waves a hand. “I told you it’s fine.”

“Is that your excuse to keep me to yourself and stare at me all night?”

Junhui giggles. “You got me.”

[cosmiclatte28]

Tongue Piercing (Yuta x reader)

 A/n : the promised, Nakamoto Yuta tongue piercing scenario :D not the best out there, but y’all are thirsty for yuta’s tongue piercing jk lol or yes? 

also happy lunar new year! (づ￣ 3￣)づ

tags : to my fellow yuta simps :”) @yutahoes @ailoveyuta @2-3-t-i

warning : suggestive, piercings, yuta is a flirt (but so are you)

enjoy~~

“Back here again Nakamoto?” You ask after hearing the small bell on the door chimes. You glance from cleaning up the greeting table to the tall man with a gummy smile portrayed on his face.

“Yes I'm here as you can see.” He shrugs his shoulder and takes off the cap and mask he used to hide his face.

You watch the clock and notice it's already working time. You wonder where your colleagues are, it's a bit unusual for them to be late.

“Alone?” The man asks you once again as he walks to stand in front of you.

You nod, this is Nakamoto Yuta, a regular customer in your tattoo and piercing parlor and he is your boyfriend. Well don’t be surprised at your morning encounter, he is an idol so he doesn’t live with you. You rarely check your phone in the morning, so maybe you missed his message about coming here.

“What are you planning to do? Visiting me or you're here for something else?” you fold your hands over your chest leaning on to the table you've just cleaned.

Yuta smirks and pulls your chin “Is that how you greet your boyfriend?”

Before you can roll your eyes for his clingy behaviour, he already takes over your lips with a short kiss and that’s that.

“I am here to visit you and at the same time for a new pierce.” He cups your cheeks and you just wait for him to explain everything.

“Didn’t we agree you had enough already this month?” you ask in your squished cheek phase and Yuta giggles at that and he pulls his body away from you.

“I am not talking about my ears.” He says as he pulls a small mirror he found on the desk and examines his ear. You were right, his ear has had enough!

“Then where?” you ask a little bit shy.

Yuta cocks his head upon hearing your cracked voice “I guess you were thinking of wild things… judging by your cracked voice.”

You shake your head and mumble in your heart “Come on be  professional about this.”

You take a deep breath and smile “Okay so tell me Yuta where do you exactly want the new piercing?”

“Actually after getting one for my navel, I really want to have another one in my tongue.” Your face fall and he has the audacity to click his tongue and winks at you.

“Tongue?” you stutter at him. He nods and licks his lips slightly.

“That hurts so much Yuta!” you yell a little bit at him.

He nods “I’m aware of that.”

You shake your head “Are you sure? Like really… I always make sure my customer are ready if they ask for a tongue piercing.”

Yuta teasingly leans closer to you “And honey who else should I trust in piercing my tongue if it's not you?”

Your mouth can only open and close like a fish and Yuta pinches your nose “Now, why don’t you get the needle ready before the store gets crowded and you'll be busy with your clients. It's a relieve I am here alone with you.”

He pushes you lightly to the working room and you can only hide in the store room as you prepare the needle and anesthesia needed.

Yuta has taken the seat like piercing was nothing big nor painful. This man can be a masochist who enjoys the pain. Gosh … you shake your head as you bring all the equipment to the table and puts over your sanitary gloves and mask.

“Do you bring the stud already?”

He nods and reaches to his pocket, then gives  it to you. You nod, nothing new. Something simple only a round ball stud.

“Have you eaten a good meal?” you try to lighten the mood. Yuta nods “I've eaten all the good stuff.  I know I won’t be able to eat painlessly for several week but I'm on a diet for a comeback don’t worry.”

You sigh “Okay, well if this is what you want I'm glad I got to be the one doing this. I'll make sure there's no regret and it's gonna be pretty.” You wink at him.

Yuta chuckles “Gosh I cannot wait to kiss you!”

You slap his firm tight “Pervert! You shouldn’t kiss not until I make sure there is no inflammation or infection! Now open up that mouth baby,” your voice turns husky within a gulp and you're glad no one else is here.

Yuta taps your ass “Wasn’t I the one in charge?”

You click your tongue “Not for today, I guess. Now open,” you gently hold his chin as Yuta’s eyes glisten when he sees you inject the anesthesia to him.

“Close your eyes, let me focus.” You wink and start doing your job.

It doesn’t take much time; you know Yuta can literally bare any slight pain when it comes to piercing.

You place the metal ball and finish the last touch. After making sure you’re done, you tap his shoulder.

“All done! Now, the pain will come in like another half of an hour. I suggest you drink a pain killer and please let me know if you feel any pain okay?” You cup his cheeks into your palm.

Yuta smiles through the numb feel in his tongue, he opens his mouth to talk but his tongue still cannot cooperate. You giggle and kiss his nose, “Don’t worry. Your tongue should be numb, and you can’t talk well for a while. But it’s regular.” Yuta only nods and he gets up to leave the chair.

You walk him to the front desk again and find your colleague already standing there.

“Alright, I’ll go.” Yuta speaks unclearly but you nod your head and just give him a thumbs up.

“Oh! Take this with you, you’ll need it.” You put your lip balm in his palm and he only smirks when he sees you blushing.

Yuta knows that is the favorite cherry lip balm he always smooches from you, and he knows you’re sending him some naughty ideas to his head.

You did not see Yuta for the last week, it’s already ten days since you pierced his tongue, five days since he came to have them checked for any problems, and after you told him he is already ready to use his tongue like usual, he’s gone.

You understand he is busy with his practices, but you did not expect him to suddenly knock on your door one Saturday night, looking all hot in his sleeveless black shirt.

“Oh! You didn’t tell me you’re coming.” You peek from your door, actually not prepared to receive him in your house. You haven’t really cleaned up your mess and you yourself look so plain and messy.

Yuta smirks “Does a boyfriend need to set a schedule to come visit his own girl? Move aside, let me in before anyone notices I am here and before I found any man in your room other than me.”

You roll your eyes and open the door for him, he directly enters without much hesitation. Running his eyes through the room and make a quick scan on you.

He chuckles, “Isn’t that a bit too revealing?” he asks when he notices your super worn out tee shirt and shorts. Well they’re the best to sleep In with so you don’t mind using such worn out clothes that happened to be “revealing” to Yuta.

You pull the sleeves of your tee up and shrug “Nah, it’s super cool with this, also I am sleeping alone Yuta. No one bothers what I am wearing.”

He places his bag down and jumps to the sofa on your living room.

“Good, no other man here.” He giggles as he pats your head. You sigh “Really? You came just to check if I am cheating on you?”

He raises his brow “Can’t I come? Didn’t you miss me? It’s been more than a week.”

You smile “Well, I have a quiet week without you! Quite a good one, but you could’ve texted me, and you know I could..” you rub your neck

Yuta leans closer “Could what?” his playful smirk comes up to his face.

You push him back “Could clean the house and prepare some food or drink for you.”

He giggles “No need, I’ve eaten dinner. I thought you said you would’ve worn a nicer lingerie.”

You smack his thigh and he yells “Why are you so rough right now, I am just kidding.”

“No sexy lingerie. I don’t have one.” You lean to your sofa, eyes watching the movie playing in front of you.

Yuta chuckles “Are you telling me that you want me to get you one?”

You want to punch him right then and there, but you know that will just make him tease you more.

So, you grit your teeth and punch him several times “If that makes you happy, yes go on buy me one! A lacy one okay! Damn it Yuta and his pervert head.” You launch your playful attack back at him and he just laughs.

“Alright alright, I know what you like, don’t worry.” He winks and licks his lips.

That’s when you remember your boyfriend has a piercing.

“Ah! Yuta let me see the piercing!!” you pull his chin and that makes the man flustered

Yuta sticks out his tongue and there you can see your wonderful professional work of piercing.

“It’s pretty! Do you mind, if I take a picture for a testimony?” you pull out your puppy eyes and phone.

Yuta clicks his tongue “I can do that,”

With that you make your boyfriend sticks his tongue out nicely and he’s a good model. You got a few good pictures that you’ll print and put on your office for references.

“Now, that you said I can do anything with my tongue, and you’ve done your job… can we try what I’ve been wanting since last time?” your boyfriend pulls you closer to him and lifts you up to his lap when you nod your head shyly.

“Don’t be shy, you knew too much to be acting innocent. I know you wanted to kiss me so bad too.” He nuzzles his nose to yours and you stick your forehead to his.

“Hmm? What do you mean?” your eyes twinkle in front of his.

Yuta fishes something out of his pocket and your eyes follow his hand. You blush when you see him shaking the cherry lip balm you gave to him.

“You knew I wanted to kiss you, but that was not allowed… so you gave me this? So I can feel like I am kissing you, right?” He raises his brow.

You look away from him, cursing his smart head for getting your message.

“But as much as I am thankful for this balm, I want to taste it from your lips.” He pops the balm open and spreads it over your mouth. Your eyes grow wide as you feel your stomach tingles at how close you are to him. You’re on his lap, one of his strong arms is holding your waist thumb barely touching your exposed skin from the worn shirt, while his other hand is applying a balm over your lips.

You balance yourself by placing your hands over his shoulder and when he pops back the lip balm lid, you smack your lips and dive into his lips. Yuta smirks as he savors you and you have to remind yourself there is a metal ball in his tongue that you’re battling with. Damn it’s hot, but still you don’t want to hurt him.

Yuta’s hands find their way to pick you up by your waist and you tighten your hands over his neck. He walks his way to your bedroom he knew by heart and for once you’re glad you always keep your bed clean or pausing to clean the bed up will ruin everything.

Once Yuta sets you down on your bed, you both part to gasp for air and you can feel your cheeks burning.

“That was hot,” you say between your breaths.

Yuta winks “I did not regret this at all, are you in?” he asks your concern, though this was nothing new, Yuta always wants to make sure he has your concern before continuing.

You nod and he leads you in.

“Gosh I really have to buy you sexy laces, huh?” he teases you and you hit him “Yak! Faster, don’t drive the attention elsewhere.”

Yuta licks his lips one more time when his eyes run over your body on your bed. He’s glad he got home tonight and he’s glad to see you after a long week.

--

You face Yuta who is lying on your side. Your naked bodies are still sweaty in the cold room, but with the covers and Yuta’s warm hug you don’t shiver at all. His fingers brush your hairs away from your face and he looks at you with stars in his eyes.

“I love you so much,” he blurts out

You stifle a laugh “Suddenly?”

He nods “Yeah, Every time I see you, I don’t want to lose you.”

You trace circles on his biceps and lay your head on his chest. You snake your arms into his torso and hug him close

“I am not going anywhere, don’t worry Yuta. I love you too.” You peck his nose and he giggles.

“I’m glad I found you.”

“Me too,”

“So, what color do you want for your lace?” he wriggles his eye brow.

You laugh “Whatever suits your taste, I can rock them honey.”

Yuta kisses your cheek “Naughty! But I like it.”

You taunt at him “So, where do you want the next piercing to be?”

Yuta smirks “I don’t know, surprise me?”

end

I- just had the courage to post this

[wolfstarlibrarian]

Hi!!!! I feel like this is a weirdly specific question bc it is but do you know any fics in which wolfstar raised harry but like not together??? i mean together but they are not in a relationship so it’s kinda a getting together fic i guess. i don’t even know how would i search it on ao3 so if you have ANY recs i would be grateful but if you don’t i totally get it

have a nice daay 🥰🥰🥰

Hello friend! This is a great question that helps to narrow down all of the amazing Raising Harry fics out there. Also, you’re so right! They are hard to find, since often times fics lack tags for relationship status/development. However, the Librarian has found some gems for you, and has also listed the a link to some other Raising Harry fics. Happy reading! 

Wolfstar Fathers Masterlist

Raising Harry + Wolfstar Get Together

Honeydew by @quoththethestral Healer Sirius Black feels like his life is going through the motions. He is still recovering from the tragic death of his best friends four years prior while doing his best to parent their five-year-old son. However, when a new patient's encounter with a mysterious creature leads him to contact a person from his past, his life gets shaken up into one giant beautiful mess that he isn't sure he knows how to handle. Or, That magic feeling when you find someone who can see you when you can't even see yourself.

Of Bookshelves and Baby Carriers by @poppunkpadfoot The customer standing in front of him is quite possibly the most beautiful man Remus has ever seen. Like, he looks like a model or something. He has long, black hair, flattened by water, and just the slightest amount of scruff on his face, and…And a baby strapped to his chest. Okay.

Lost And Found by rosie_writes

Imagine a universe in which Remus never went to Hogwarts. The Marauders never became Animagi, and so Peter had nowhere to run when Sirius cornered him after the Potters' deaths. Peter was the one who ended up in Azkaban, whilst Sirius was granted custody of Harry. Fast-forward six years or so, to a sunny day in April 1988....

Sugar, Vanilla, and Royal Pine by @goodboylupin

December of 1981, Remus and Sirius were so shell-shocked by the events of Halloween, they very nearly missed Christmas all together. It was only on one of their (at the time, exceedingly rare) visits to the closest village, the evening of the 22nd, when little Harry pointed a chubby finger at the lights strung through the barren branches of an oak tree and spoke one of his first real words in weeks, “Pretty,” that they realized what they had almost robbed him of in the haze of their own grief.

Not If It's You by estas_absentis In 1985, Remus Lupin is getting by, raising Harry, and trying not to think about the past. When Sirius gets a new trial, that past becomes impossible to ignore.

Come Back, Move Forward by NachoDiablo "He’d been dreading this day ever since the start-of-the-year staff meeting last week, when Dumbledore had announced this year’s Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. He’d had his suspicions-- Dumbledore always had trouble filling the role, it was only a matter of time before he stooped this low, really-- but to have them confirmed had set a sour tone as the first of September drew nearer." AU where Sirius raised Harry and taught at Hogwarts while that arsehole Remus fucked off to do Merlin-knows-what. Not that Sirius gives one shit about it, of course.

The Maddest House by busaikko After the events of Halloween 1981, Sirius Black finds himself raising Harry, with the assistance of Remus, in a world where Voldemort never disappears for 11 years.

Take a Look Through My Eyes by CiciWeezil It's been six years since Harry was left on the Dursleys' doorstep. Sirius is in prison, Remus is friendless, and Pettigrew is secretly in hiding. But some things are meant to be, and Arthur Weasley bumping into a famous Magizoologist is one of those things. Just what events will this meeting set in motion?

Someone to Watch Over Me by AllThisAndLoveTooWillRuinUs The whole ‘godfather’ thing had meant a lot to Sirius, and he would have never dreamed of saying no. This is unfortunate because ‘no’ was the correct response. To be more specific: ‘No, of course not, dear God, I am in no way equipped for even the mere possibility of parenthood’. In which Sirius realizes he can't raise Harry on his own, so he turns to Remus so they can navigate parenthood, grief, and love together.

Trust the Wolf to Bring You Home by pancake_surprise

Remus Lupin saves 18-month-old Harry from the Dursleys. And comes to the realization that perhaps Sirius Black isn’t as guilty as everyone thinks.

Feel free to share this list with your own recs! 

[cherryhanji]

flowers don't tell, they show

bulleted scenario. stray kids (hyung line) x female reader

genre: florist/flower shop au, fluff (idk what else to put lol)

words: 1.6k

warning(s): none (a single curse word maybe?)

description: what if you received a flower from your own shop?

alexa's note:

so hello there my friends! stay at home this valentines'? (actually u don't need a boyfriend/girlfriend to celebrate valentines. love is not only for couples! it's for everyone! have u heard different types of love?) well, i just want to give my lovely bubs here the half of my cute lil valentines' gift. and i hope y'all like it! *kith kith* (maknae line will be posted tomorrow)

just a quick disclaimer:

so i really don't have that much knowledge about flowers and their specific meanings, i just googled them (sorry) so if i interpreted something that you think is wrong, pls tell me right away. thankies!

•••

BANG CHAN

• your cutie af neighbor who highkey endorses your shop to his fam and friends, in which you are so grateful of because it really helped your business a lot

• "your flower arrangements are so damN beautiful"

• always gives a cup of coffee every morning before you go to your shop

• "cheer up! florists like you are always appreciated. Don't be sulky, okay?"

• one time you went home really exhausted

• valentines' day is always the holiday that makes your business boom a lot

• only seeing a bouquet of flower sitting nicely on your doorstep

• realizing that the bouquet was the one you made a while ago, but didn't have the clue who the person who bought this from you.

• "I know it's very exhausting, since morning, I know you'll get exhausted, so I bought this for you, hoping that it will lift up your mood and put a smile on your face."

• "keep on smiling, it makes me smile too. - CHAN"

• he's right. Definitely right. Because as soon as you read his small note, that bright smile on your face never faded. all the stress from the shop was completely removed by this unexpected gift.

• "He's really a sunshine, as what they always say."

LEE KNOW/MINHO

• "flowers easily wilt and die soon, why are y'all spending your money with that?"

• "minho, if you just went here to mock my family's business, I am happy to tell you that you may now leave"

• "Fine fine. They're beautiful, okay? Like you"

• "oh shut up"

• Minho always annoy the shit out of you every weekends. And when you say weekends, it means Saturday and Sunday because you always help ypur parents manage your own family business which is a flower shop.

• Your mother loves planting, especially growing flowers. And as a daughter of a florist, you grew to love it. Which gives you knowledge about different kinds of flowers and their specific meaning.

• "being a florists' daughter, what's your favorite flower?"

• you smiled at his expected inquiry. your classmates already asked you the same question.

• Minho is your friend for quite a long time already, though you weren't surprised he asked this question, but what's surprising is he asked you about this just now.

• "I actually have lots of them. truthfully I love all kinds of flowers. But I have this one thing on my mind."

• he looks a bit interested, knowing Minho, he's not into flowers, telling you that he always catch allergies whenever he stays near them. Not having an idea why he always manage to go to your shop that is full of flowers and not getting allergies at all.

• "I really love this flower called goldenrod. Aside from its cute little yellow flower heads, I love it because of its symbolism."

• "it symbolizes encouragement and growth, and apparently this flower brings good luck to everyone. Isn't it cute?"

• "Kinda. You know, rose and sunflower are the only flowers I am really familiar of"

• You laugh at his adorable confession, he's right. Most of your customers, example of them are teenagers like you order roses as a gift for their special someone.

• Little did they know, there are different variations of flowers that can really interpret what they feel

• "I heard that Camellia symbolizes adoration, am I right?"

• you were shocked that Minho, a guy who only knows roses and sunflowers knew this.

• Camellia symbolizes adoration, some people give Camellia to tell how much they adore and like that certain person.

• "yeah, you're right. How'd you know that?"

• "Google, duh. Anyways, do you have a stock of Camellias today? If yes, can you please arrange me a bouquet of it?"

• As expected, Minho and his sassiness. But knowing that he'll purchase a camellia from your shop consoled you a bit.

• Giving you his payment, you immediately arranged the camellia bouquet, your favorite arrangement. Showcasing your talent in front of him

• Which you think is effective because you can see how attentive he was from your peripheral view, making you feel a bit awkward.

• But your mind came to abrupt stop after you gave him the bouquet.

• "w-why..?"

• "it's for you, idiot. Good job in arranging the bouquet, you received a pretty bouquet of camellia flowers.

• "the flower says it all. don't ask me why."

CHANGBIN

• "The most expensive bouquet of flowers you sell in your please."

• You frown at the way Changbin address his order to you.

• In your University, Changbin is that one "delinquent, rude-looking guy from your class".

• And your first encounter with him isn't that good. Leaving a bad impression of him to you. So you were kinda surprised to see him in your shop.

• Seeing Changbin, dressed in black leather jacket with lots of piercings hanging on his ears with a colorful bouquet of flowers from your shop in his hands? nah, that's strange for you.

• "are you really this good at arranging those flowers?"

• his "lowkey compliment" made your ears perked up. You and Changbin aren't really that close, given your bad first meeting with him.

• "Uh, y-yeah? Because I do this for a long time now. So I'm already used to it."

• Giving his order to him made your face a bit flushy, your hands accidentally brushed against each other.

• You just handed his order, but why do you feel something in your stomach?

• your eyebrows knitted when he gave back to you the flowers, hesitating to accept it.

• doesn't he like the arrangement?

• "w-why are you giving this--"

• "I'm sorry if I left a bad impression to you. I swear, I didn't mean to be rude to you. I am just totally pissed off that day. And I wished that the ground will just eat me alive when I knew you were one of my classmates in Ethics."

• Hearing him apologize for leaving a bad impression to you, made your heart sank. Maybe he's not that rude unlike what you think of him.

• "Are you really that sorry?"

• You didn't know why you asked that, maybe you just liked the way his sorry and remorseful tone is contrasting his physical appearance?

• "Yeah, I really am. I hope that you accept it. Maybe we can start off again? This time, I'll be nicer to you. I'll never be that rude guy from your class ever again."

• His last line made you giggle because he probably heard what you told your seatmate about him that day.

HYUNJIN

• The classic "high school hearththrob"

• Expected that most girls from your school gave him those plastic flowers, with diabetic filled boxes (aka sweets)

• "I really appreciate their admiration. But where do you think I'll store these plastic flowers? I am not even a fan of flowers."

• "plastic flowers last long. but it's plastic, it can destroy our nature. So, real flowers are still the real deal."

• "yeah, I know. That's why you're lowkey endorsing your flower shop. Yeah, they should buy authentic and fresh flowers from Y/N's flower shop."

• Hyunjin decided to walk with you, going to your shop after school, to help your parents sell and arrange flowers. Because for sure there are lots of people visiting your shop to buy flowers. Valentines' day, people.

• "Is it okay to stay here for a while? If you don't mind?"

• You just let him walk around, his eyes appreciating the beauty of each flowers displayed around the shop.

• The title "flower boy" just fits him perfectly.

• and the way he just picked up the single lavender rose was just as fascinating as him

• "this looks pretty and rare, what does this mean?"

• "you're right. lavender rose are the rare variety of roses, and it symbolizes love at first sight."

• the smile on hyunjin's face is so genuine, and you know that someone came up to his mind after you told him what the lavender rose symbolizes.

• "great. I'll buy this one, please."

• the enthusiasm in Hyunjin's voice tells you that your assumption was right. Who ever they are, they're so lucky.

• But you think you already have an idea who that person is.

• With a small folded paper, and a bar of chocolate, Hyunjin gave you the flower he bought and picked himself from your own flower shop.

• "Happy Valentines, I hope you like it."

• For sure the thumpings of your heart can be heard already because of its wild beating.

• "Good thing I found that rare flower for a girl like you."

•••

tagging my networks: (bcs sometimes it won't show up in the tags😤) @districtninewriters @inkidz @skzwriternet @stayhavens @0325-net

[callboxkat]

Those Long, Lonely Nights (part 1/6)

Author’s note: This is a retelling of the story These Deep Dark Woods, but from Roman’s perspective, plus a few new scenes. I recommend reading that story first, but this can also stand alone. Please read the warnings!

Summary: Roman, a knight, insists on accompanying his best friend Logan, a potion maker, when he decides to head into the notoriously dangerous woods bordering their home to find some rare herbs and minerals for his apothecary. They find much more than they bargained for when they encounter Remus, a bloodthirsty giant. Logince. Angst with a happy ending.

Warnings:  food mention, blood, injuries, death mention, killing mention, gun mention, mild body horror (it’s Remus), disturbing imagery (it’s Remus), character death, temporary/believed character death, kidnapping, guilt, attempted self sacrifice, talk of giants, vampires and other monsters. Very unsympathetic villain Remus.

Word Count: 1764

Part 2 

Ao3 Link

Writing Masterpost!

...

Roman bounded down the bustling street, waving to familiar passerby as he went. He knew he was easy to pick out and very recognizable, in his white knight’s uniform. Despite the early morning, many people were already up and about, setting up for the day, but the street lamps still glowed—a recent installation, they actually ran on electricity! Roman still didn’t quite understand how that worked, but he was proud to see his settlement prospering, and it was fascinating, how much light came from them, just from a few little wires and some glass. Perhaps there was some sort of enchantment involved.

“Good morning, Sir Roman,” a shopkeeper called.

Roman tabled his nerdy thoughts for the time being. He put on a bright smile and approached the shop, where a woman stood sweeping clear the welcome mat. “Good morning to you, Maryanne!”

The woman put aside the broom and dusted her hands off on her apron. “Would you like a pastry? The peaches just arrived from Mellow Valley, and they are simply delightful in a fruit tart.”

Roman hummed consideringly. “Oh, that’s very tempting, but I’m afraid I’m in a rush this morning!”

“Some other time, then. Perhaps you could even bring that handsome young man you’re always with.” She winked.

Roman really hoped he wasn’t blushing. “Of course—you know I love your treats.”

Roman was on his way to his shift guarding the outer wall, an imposing structure built of shining gray stone that protected the citizens of his home from the monsters that roamed the forest beyond. It was an important job, entrusted to the expertise of the knights, and one that Roman loved doing; but it wasn’t always the most exciting prospect. Their settlement, Old Haven, was one of the longest standing, enough so that most of the monsters had known since generations past to stay well away; and between the few times that things truly got exciting... they could be terribly dull.

But, before Roman went to his shift that morning, he had a stop to make, and this he was definitely looking forward to.

The apothecary was located just a couple of blocks from the main square, in a small, warmly colored cedar and stone building with windows filled with neatly arranged bundles of colorful herbs and evenly spaced rows of bottles of medicinal powders and potions. A hand-painted sign read, Please come in, in neat, white letters, in an only slightly decorative script.

Roman reached the shop just as the door opened, the bell overhead chiming. A customer stepped out, dressed in a dark robe with the hood up. At first glance, he seemed to be clothed entirely in black, but on closer inspection, his robe was actually a deep plum color. He clutched a bottle of pomegranate juice in one pale hand and a neatly sealed packet of herbs in the other. Dark bangs poked out from under the hood, but his face was cast in shadow. Roman frowned slightly noticing the dark, grayish veins in his hands as he stepped back to give the man room. He hurried past Roman and disappeared down the street. Roman stepped inside the apothecary once he was gone.

The apothecarist, Logan, stood behind a counter within the shop, wearing an elegant, navy colored coat and his usual pair of spectacles. He was pushing together a pile of coins on the counter. Copper and bronze coins only, Roman noticed. No silver.

“Got a lot of vampire clientele?” Roman asked, leaning (or perhaps posing) against one of the display cabinets.

Logan looked up, the warm lamplight making his deep blue irises glitter in a way that never failed to make Roman’s heart skip a beat. He glanced back down and finished tucking away the money. “Six,” he said honestly. “Seven, most likely, although she has not personally shared that information with me, and if she is, hers appears to be a mild case.”

“Hm.”

“You don’t approve?”

“Ah… they’re a little too similar to monsters, for my taste.”

“It is a monster-derived affliction, that is true, but with modern treatments, most of those afflicted with vampirism can lead nearly normal lives.”

Roman shrugged dismissingly, waving him off. He hadn’t come here to talk about vampires. “I know, I know. Anyway. How’s my favorite nerd this morning?”

“I wish you wouldn’t call me that,” Logan sighed.

“You know you love it.”

Logan did not deny it, Roman noticed with a small smile. Instead, he adjusted a few already perfectly positioned potion bottles on the counter, before saying, “I am well, although rather busy.”

Roman glanced around the room, noticeably empty of customers. “Ah yes, this is a very busy time for your shop, I see.”

“A customer did depart only moments ago,” Logan pointed out. “Although, no, I was not referring to customers. I’m preparing for an outing.”

“An outing?” Roman was interested, now. “Finally taking a little vacation, are you? Good on you. Where are you going? And more importantly—can I come?”

Logan wanted to smile, Roman could tell. But he didn’t. The guy took himself too seriously. “Not that type of outing. I require materials to restock my shop.”

Roman sighed dramatically, making it a full body motion. So much for a vacation. And the hot springs in the hills of northern Old Haven were so nice this time of year. “So? Just put it on the list for the traders. Mellow Valley should have most of your things in season by now. Did you hear the peaches arrived? Maryanne, that baker on Lilac, promised me some of her delightful pastries. We could go get some, when I’m finished with my shift on the South Wall this morning.”

Logan shook his head “Mellow Valley won’t have everything I need; and besides, the costs are considerably lessened when the materials are personally collected.”

Roman furrowed his brow. “Collected where?”

“Outside.”

“You mean outside, like, as in the park, right?”

“In the woods,” Logan sighed, beginning to sound exasperated.

Roman opened his mouth, then closed it again. The woods. The veritable ocean of dense trees beyond the settlement’s walls, filled to the brim with monsters, held back from advancing only by the strength of the guard and broken only by the occasional human stronghold and the heavily protected trails that linked them. Generally, only knights and the traders they accompanied ever ventured beyond the walls—this was, in fact, why Roman had become a knight in the first place, to get to see some of the world that most only saw through pictures and stories. Citizens were allowed to leave—they weren’t prisoners—but it was very rare, and highly discouraged. Many who went unprepared—or even those who did—never returned; and sometimes even those who did return were not the same as when they left—like the vampires who apparently frequented this shop, or at least one or more of their ancestors. Vampirism could be tricky like that. Sometimes it cropped up randomly, somewhere down the line.

Logan had begun sorting through some of his supplies, acting for all the world as if he hadn’t just announced he had a death wish.

Roman shook off his distracted thoughts of vampirism and knightly missions, and focused on the most important thing: “Please tell me you aren’t planning to go out there alone.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Logan sighed. “I will have my dagger, and I will go no further into the woods than required.”

“Oookay, first of all, why am I just now hearing that you’ve been hanging out in the monster-filled woods by yourself?”

“I would hardly call it ‘hanging out’.”

“And second of all, you are absolutely not doing that.”

Logan gave him a dry look. “Yes, I am. My herbs will not pick themselves.”

“Get a garden like a normal person.”

“You know I have a quite extensive garden.” Logan paused, looked confused. He shook his head, going back to counting bundles of tiny black seeds. “Some of these herbs do not naturally grow within human settlements, let alone ours, and my attempts to recreate their preferred environment have in many cases proven thus far unsuccessful. Besides, I cannot ‘get a garden’ to form mineral deposits, several of which are required in even non-specialty potions.”

Roman still didn’t quite see why Logan wouldn’t be able to get all of this stuff using a trader. Knowing Logan, it was less about the money and more about needing to personally ensure that he received the correct materials. Surely, though, even the least-versed in medicinal resources could get him what he needed, if he described them well enough.

Also knowing Logan, though, he would not be dissuaded from going.

Roman pulled himself up to his full height, puffing out his chest and putting one hand on the protective-charm engraved hilt of his sword. “Alright, then, I am coming with you.”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “You’re coming to collect herbs? Can you even tell wormwood from hemlock?”

“I’m not going to find your nerd plants, I’m going to protect you.”

Logan scoffed quietly, clearly believing Roman’s very generous and heroic offer was unnecessary. But he sat down on his stool, finally, and looked at Roman without busying himself with his apothecarist duties. He glanced Roman up and down, apparently trying to decide how serious Roman was. “Alright, then, if you insist.”

“I do!” Roman nodded firmly. He relaxed his posture. “So, when are we going?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yes?”

“I—” Roman groaned, looking up towards the wooden beams of the ceiling. “Fine. It’s a little short notice, but fine.” He worked his jaw, then mumbled, “I’ll need to cancel a couple days… maybe Sir Leo can cover? Hm.”

Logan tilted his head slightly, adjusting his spectacles and watching Roman’s dramatics. “I am not forcing you to come.”

You are, though. “Well, I am.”

“Alright.”

“Alright.”

A beat passed in silence, Roman feeling triumphant, before Logan gave the knight a slightly amused look. “I thought you had a shift on the wall?”

“I—right. Yes.” Roman had gotten a little distracted. He took a couple of steps back. “So, you, me, tomorrow, woods. Great.” He turned towards the door, stopped, and turned around. “About those pastries?”

Logan hummed. “I can take a break two hours after noon, which is when your shift ends, if I remember correctly. I suppose I would accept one then.”

“They have fruit in them,” Roman encouraged. “That makes them healthy!”

“I do not believe that is entirely correct.”

Roman grinned and left the shop.

[intangiblyyourswrites]

Hi! Can you do 43 from the kissing prompt? Botw zelink plz:)

SOOO. I’m sure this is not what you had in mind, so if you don’t like this, feel free to request another number (my requests are closed but I’ll make an exception for you)!

43. A kiss pressed to the top of the head.

AU setting where they beat Calamity the first time.

— Something Strange — 

There’s something strange about the Queen of Hyrule and the Commander of her Royal Guard. Rumor has it that he was named her Appointed Knight when she was just sixteen, and despite their rocky start, they’ve been inseparable ever since. While it’s not unusual for those of royalty to have a select few they keep close—trusted allies are rare and valuable—the proximity between the two is questionable at best.

Or at least, that’s what Shad thinks. As an envoy from the Kingdom of Holodrum, sent by the First Prince to assess the eligibility of the Queen’s hand, his data is based on the few encounters he had with them in the week he’s been here. And well, wherever the Queen went, her Commander followed exactly three steps behind.

The thing is, he seems to be the only person in all of Castle Town to find this strange. Neither the advisors nor castle staff nor townspeople seem to acknowledge how close the two appear to be—how the Commander leans much too near to whisper in the Queen’s ear or how the Queen’s hands always seem to find a reason to rest on his arm or shoulder. Initially, Shad thought the customs here in Hyrule were simply different, but the typical rules of propriety seem to apply to and with everyone else.

Of course he’s considered that they were...involved. That would explain everything if it weren’t for the fact he had asked the Queen directly on the third day of his arrival.

“Are you seeking a husband, Your Majesty?” he asked casually over dinner. The Queen sat at the head of the table, the Commander to her right, and he, to her left as her guest. It took all his willpower to not stare as the man across from him scarfed down three plates of food within a span of twenty minutes.

The Queen smiled gently, but her eyes seemed to sparkle as she glanced at the Commander, likely entertained, before answering. “No, I am currently not in search of one. Are you inquiring for yourself, or is this the curiosity of your prince?”

Shad flushed, but the Queen continued. “Surely though, if that were the case, Prince Onox would have come here himself.”

“Just...curious, Your Majesty,” he swallowed, scrambling for a save. “Prince Onox, however, did want me to assess your military presence.”

“Oh? Commander Link here is our best warrior. He would be happy to provide a demonstration, wouldn’t you, Link?”

As attentive to his meal as he had been, the Commander did not miss a beat in his reply. “Anything for my Queen.”

This was the very first time Shad had heard him speak. Most of the time, he responded with a nod or a shake of his head. Sometimes he would grunt. Shad didn’t think he spoke at all.

But evidently he did. His tone was soft, but there was a firmness to it; perhaps a protective lilt when regarding the Queen?

He must have stared too long because the Commander turned to him, brows raised. Shad quickly bowed his head. “I will deliver the message to the prince.”

Maybe it was a trick of light, but Shad could have sworn he saw the man smirk.

Alas, that was four days ago. While the Queen still insists that she is not in search of a king, Shad has noticed certain shifts in the castle. The staff bustles around more, trading the deep blue decor with ivory lined with gold. New draperies are installed and the Queen is having furniture moved into her bed chambers. His suspicion is confirmed when he happens to pass by the Sanctum.

On the dais sits two thrones. There was only one on the day of his arrival.

Shad immediately sets off to find the Queen. What is the meaning of this? She had insisted—

He skids to a halt before a small alcove to the gardens. There stands the Queen of Hyrule with the notorious Commander of her Royal Guard. Once again, they’re much too close, feet and shoulders touching. Shad is just about to call their attention when the Commander takes the Queen’s hand in his own.

Suddenly, the moment seems too private. Shad should walk away but curiosity roots him in place. Had he been right after all? Is the Queen in an illicit affair with her Commander?

The Commander brings her fingers to his lips, letting them linger there as he gazes upon her with a look that can only be described as reverence. The Queen blushes prettily, says something Shad can’t quite make out, and leans forward into his embrace. With a tilt of his chin, the Commander places a gentle kiss on the top of her head.

As much as Shad prides his intellect, he flounders like a fish.

An illicit affair indeed! Does the staff know? Do the people know? What a scandal! Outrage! He can only imagine the uproar it will cause once it’s revealed.

Shad straightens his posture and readies himself to march in and expose the two. He takes a step forward—

—And gets yanked back by the collar. Angry, stern eyes glower down at him. He blinks twice before recognizing the perpetrator as the head maid.

“Master Shad, it’s rude to interrupt,” she whispers hastily, dragging him in the opposite direction of the alcove. “It’s rare for the Queen and the Commander to indulge themselves in public. The garden is one of the few places they feel comfortable to.”

Shad is floored. “You all...know?”

She rolls her eyes. “All of Hyrule knows! Why wouldn’t we know who our future king will be?”

“King?”

Her eyes glitter mischievously. “Well, Commander Link didn’t want to be king, but Her Majesty can be quite persuasive when she needs to be. If you watch them long enough, you’ll realize that he can’t say no to her very well.”

His jaw drops. “B-But she said—she said she wasn’t looking—”

“Of course she isn’t looking! They’ve been attached by the hip since prior to the Calamity!” The maid snorts. “Hardly need to look for a partner when destiny binds you to them.”

She stops suddenly and cocks her head at him. “Shouldn’t you know their history, Master Shad? Are you not Holodrom’s lead scholar?”

“I-I—Well, this was not publicized. An unmarried Queen on the throne is unheard of. We thought—surely she was waiting—”

He’s yanked again and her glare holds him down more than her grip actually does. “Queen Zelda is very capable. You’d do well to inform your monarch of that.”

Shad can only gulp and nod furiously.

He leaves Hyrule the very next day. Two weeks later, a telegram arrives announcing Queen Zelda’s marriage to the new King of Hyrule.

King Link.

[fairfaxleasee]

I was looking through your Devil's Hands prompt list and am intrigued! How about either 9 (Just dropped by to make sure you’re as happy with our little deal as I am.) or 10 (Hm. I forgot you could tempt me with things I want)? Happy Friday!

For @dadrunkwriting

"Hm. I forgot you could tempt me with things I want..." Gamlen Amell ran a hand along his chin and licked his lips.

Solas doubted very much the shemlen had forgotten anything of the sort. "Just so we're clear, Gamlen, my proposal is that I will pay you for information about your niece. Not rumor, not speculation, and not your opinion. I am only interested in information."

Information on Cassia Hawke was annoyingly difficult to come by. There were plenty people who "knew" things about the Champion, and more who "knew" somehow more outlandish things about the Ice Queen, but people who knew anything about Cassia Hawke the woman were somehow rarer than people who knew about Elvhanan.

As far as Solas could tell, there were only two people alive who really knew her, and both of them refused to speak with him. (Well, technically the imitation wolf would talk with him, but he rarely said anything that wasn't an insult or a threat. He certainly wasn't willing to talk with Solas about his 'Cass.') The degree of loyalty ara vherlin had cultivated in her servant was surprising, but it was obvious she was a lost cause to Solas.

Merrill was supposed to have known ara vherlin, but it seemed that the women had managed to spend ten years in each other's company and Merrill knew just as little (and 'knew' just as much) as the people who'd never even met ara vherlin.

Which is why Solas had been forced to lower himself to this meeting. Gamlen Amell was ara vherlin's only living relative, and unfortunately the dead ones were beyond Solas' reach. He'd lived with her for over a year. He had to know something.

Solas just hoped it wouldn't take too long to get to it. Every second in the shemlen's company was absolute agony.

"Oh, I can give you information alright..."

"Then I suggest you get to it. No information, no money."

"Straight down to business then? I can respect that."

Solas had no idea why the shemlen thought he could affect a behavior he'd never received, but this wasn't the time to bring it up. "...yes. I think it's preferable that we keep our interaction to a minimum."

"Well," Gamlen leaned in and motioned for Solas to mirror the movement. He barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes and reluctantly did as requested. Once he was close enough, the shemlen took a look around the bar (despite the fact Solas was already positive no one was paying them any heed) and whispered, "The thing to know about my niece, elf, is... she's completely out of her blighted mind."

Solas was sorely tempted to kill Gamlen now and be done with it. "...that is unhelpful to my endeavors, as well as a matter of opinion. It doesn't count as information."

"Well now just a bloody second! You're not going to go changing our deal now, you said you'd pay for information, you didn't say a blighted thing about how it had to be useful to you!"

"I had thought..." Solas forced a smile. "That it was implied."

"I'll tell you what's 'implied' - it's implied that there are a lot of other people who are interested in my time and hearing about my niece!" Solas doubted both those things. "It's implied that I've been nice enough to meet with you to talk, and now you're going and changing our deal -" Solas closed his eyes and counted in his head to ignore and resist murdering the shemlen. When he opened them, Gamlen was still ranting, "I'll imply you, is what I'll do!"

Solas slammed a fist on the table. "First, stop using that word. I do not know what you think it means, but whatever that is, it does not mean what you think it means! Second - I will pay you for useful information about your niece. But if you think you can get a better offer elsewhere, feel free to leave."

The man blanched and swallowed. "I... fine. I'll tell you what I know."

"Please. And I think it would be better for both of us if you were quick about it."

"Let's see now. Most of it comes back to the girl being out of her blighted mind, like I told you. Never went out, never had any friends, would just totally stop talking for hours on end. No idea what that was about. Complained when I was 'loud,' complained about my drinking - said it made the house 'smell funny,' wouldn't do anything Leandra or I told her to. Never did any of the things she was supposed to - didn't cook, didn't clean, always galivanting off somewhere with that entourage of hers, like that glowy elf she ran off with." He laughed. "Actually, you want to get to know her that badly, go get yourself some of those fancy lyrium tattoos. Knife-ears and those things and she'll throw herself at a man. Course, if you don't have those things, she'll completely ignore you. Did you know, in all the time she lived here, she never bought one thing at the Rose."

"Why do you know that?" Solas regretted the question before he'd finished asking it, but its monumental stupidity stuck out in the shemlen's monumentally stupid diatribe that Solas hadn't been able to resist.

"Kept trying to get put on her tab there! Only every time I do, I get told she's not a customer and doesn't have a tab! I asked her to open one for me - it was the least she could have done; she never once paid rent when she was living with me, and not just her mind! That damn dog of hers ate about a third of my cheese inventory! And once she made it in that Deep Roads expedition there wasn't even an extra copper for Dear Old Uncle Gamlen - no Nameday gifts, no Satinalia gifts, nothing! And she kept trying to poison me! First it was the mistletoe at the Satinalia dinner I had to invite myself to, then it was the cyanide at the Tevinter dinner party."

"I cannot imagine anyone wanting to poison you." It was a good thing Solas didn't have any handy or he'd have probably already slipped some in the man's drink. "But none of this is helpful. If I wanted gossip, I'd ask the bartender. I want insight."

"Alright. I'll give you insight. But it's going to cost you." Gamlen rubbed his fingers together.

"You will get paid when I get my information. Not sooner."

"Well, here goes - I think she always was jealous of Bethany. Although I suppose that made sense, Bethany was the nice one, and the pretty one, and the easy one, too bad she was also the apostate one. If she hadn't been, things would have gone very differently. Leandra'd have given Cassia up to the Circle in a heartbeat. Of course who knows, girl might have actually liked it there. You know, Leandra told me more than once that if she'd known that was what she was going to get, she wouldn't have thrown it all away."

"But they're dead."

"Who?"

"Leandra and Bethany - her mother and sister."

Who I would much rather be talking to than you.

"Yeah... but suspicious that way, isn't it? People around Cassia always seem to turn up dead. She says Bethany got the Taint, but there's really only her word for it, and that elf she's attached to - who knows what happened in the Deep Roads. Same with Leandra, girl said blood magic, but they never did like each other either."

Matricide and sororicide were perfectly plausible activities for the Ice Queen to get up to, but apparently even her uncle was unable to realize that ara vherlin had little in common with that character.

Solas shook his head and pulled his cloak back up. "This was a waste of time." He stood to leave.

"Hey! Get back here, elf, and give me my money!"

"I thought," Solas shot a bolt in the shemlen's direction. It was harmless, but it had the desired effect of stopping him in his tracks, "I was clear - I would pay you for information; not opinion, not speculation. And you obviously have no information to offer whatsoever on your niece."

"I told you," Gamlen took a step in his direction, then glanced at his hands nervously and stopped moving, "The girl's out of her blighted mind!"

"And I told you, that was your opinion. You get nothing for that. Good day, 'sir.'"

Solas stalked out of the shemlen's hovel. This entire trip had wasted a day chasing useless leads when he could have used it trying to figure out a way to outflank what was, by far, the most dangerous adversary he'd encountered. Who he still couldn't believe was human.

[maybe-your-left]

Cowboy Blues: Cowgirls in Kuna

A few months have gone by since you and Clyde were in the mountains and your relationship takes a turn. 

TW/CW: VIOLENCE THERE IS VIOLENCE AND BLOOD IN THIS CHAPTER. I am SO SORRY BUT IT HAD TO HAPPEN. If you are uncomfortable reading about physical assault PLEASE skip this chapter.

ALSO HERE IS MY MASTERLIST incase you miss any chapters or you want to see what else I am writing! Which is usually hot garbage! :) 

“Sunshine could y’ bring me some dinner?” Clyde grumbled through the phone, “I forgot t’ pack some before I left an the bar is packed tonight.” 

“Of course baby,” you started rummaging through the fridge, “I’ll be there in 20 okay?” 

“Okay. Thank y’.” 

“You’re welcome, bye.” 

It was rare for Clyde to forget food. Usually, he would steal whatever leftovers you had in your fridge, or on the rare nights you could eat together you would bring him food to the bar. After your cabin trip, you and Clyde had been ‘steady’ for about  2 months. Spending time at each other’s houses, spreading personal items in each other's space. Both of you shared house keys, and sometimes if Clyde was really lonely after work he would come to your house and sleep in until it was time for you to head to work. It was a wonderful routine, you felt so safe and secure in the rhythm. Clyde was sweet, attentive, and so loving towards you. 

Not a day went by without Clyde reminding you how beautiful you were, how much he appreciated you, or how much you meant to him. Nothing else mattered to him except your happiness and that was true both ways. You enjoyed his company, and every day he taught you something new. Everything was going so well you weren’t sure what to expect next! 

You climbed into the car and started towards the bar. Not really thinking about putting on a nice outfit, you wouldn’t stay too long since you worked in the morning. You had thrown together some leftover Lasagna, one of Clyde’s favorites, and some other odds and ends in case he got hungry again during his shift. 

Parking at the bar you saw how packed it was, most of the cars were out of state plates. It wasn’t rare, Duck tape was off the highway so lots of people came through before checking into a motel. Walking up the steps you noticed a truck that you thought looked familiar, an old Chevy. Each piece looked like it was from a different truck, and it was covered in mud. However, the plates were from another state so you paid it no mind. 

Earl greeted you at the door, “Howdy miss (Y/N), Clyde’s pretty busy tonight. Outta towners are here.” 

“Well, He asked me to bring him dinner so he better make some room for me!” 

He smiled and let you in, dozens of people inside. You could barely hear the jukebox playing over the loud crowds around the pool tables. You glanced around and saw groups of men circling around the few women in the bar. Most were regulars that wouldn’t take any shit from men who weren’t respectful, but you were glad that Clyde had help in case things got out of hand. 

Behind the bar you saw Clyde, your big bear of a man was moving so fast filling drink orders. Next to him was Joe Bang, Mellie’s husband, barking at customers to stay off the pool felts and also handing out beers. You wondered where Mellie was, usually, she helped with the bar. Ever since Jimmy moved to be closer to his daughter, she and Joe had helped out with Duck Tape. 

Walking behind the bar you placed his food in the mini-fridge, smiling at Joe when he waved at you. 

“Hi baby, do you want me to help out for a little?” you placed your hand on Clyde’s back. Instantly you felt how stressed out he was, this many people around him made him nervous. Especially since most were from out of town and they liked to ask questions about his arm. 

“Here y’ go,” he nodded to a customer, “Hi darlin’ sorry, it’s so busy.” 

He leaned forward giving you a quick kiss before rushing out from behind the bar, barking at some young kid that thought it was a good idea to throw a pool cue. You stood there watching Clyde escort the gentlemen and his friends out of the bar, saying that they needed to respect the property and whatnot. Sighing you turned back around and started taking simple orders, not being a bartender you just knew how to get people beers and that stuff. Besides, it looked like a beer-drinking crowd. 

“Well well well, what do we have here?” a voice called over the bar. 

You instantly froze, you knew that voice. It had been a while, but the voice was familiar. 

“You left me to become a barmaid? Pathetic,” they called again, “Even for you.” 

Whipping around you stared at the cold dead eyes of your ex, Josh. Sitting at the bar, about 4 empty beers in front of him as he nursed his 5th. 

“Excuse me?” you croaked out. You had to do a double-take, there was no way that Josh was here, how could he know where you were? You had changed your phone number, even gotten a new car, and you were sure you didn’t allow your vet clinic to post your picture on their website in case he went snooping. 

You turned slightly towards Clyde, unsure if you should call out to him or not. Although the two of you had been together for a couple months, you hadn’t told him everything about your past. Especially leaving out the parts where your ex used to beat you senseless, or how you ran so far your feet bled just so you could get away from him. 

Josh must’ve seen you look at him and he started laughing, “Oh and now you’re dating a cripple? What kinda man is that?” He chugged his beer, “Fuckin’ disrespectful is what you are. Leaving me and now, here is where I find you?” 

You couldn’t speak, afraid of screaming in front of everyone. You tried to get closer to Joe but he was too busy dealing with other customers to even pay you any attention and unfortunately you could hear Clyde by the front laughing with Earl about something. 

“What? You not gonna talk?” 

Looking around the room you tried to see anything you could defend yourself with. You didn’t think Josh was stupid enough to do anything in front of everyone but you couldn’t be too sure. Spying Clyde’s office in the distance you started scooting away from the bar.

Once you were about a body length away from Josh, never breaking eye contact, you sprinted. Pushing around the bar and through patrons, tears streaming down your cheeks. Thank god the bar was full or else people would’ve heard your sobs. Unfortunately, Josh had other plans, whipping around and grabbing your wrist. 

“You gonna fuckin’ run again?!” He had you pinned to a table, his sweaty hand was pressing your cheek to the wood. You were full-on crying now, the entire bar silent and staring at the encounter between you and the ‘stranger’. 

“Please let go of me, Josh,” you whispered. 

He pressed you down harder, your arm pinned behind your back. You felt like it was going to break and he had you in a cobra grip. “No, you don’t get to talk after what you did to me!” 

He lifted you off the table and suddenly you were thrown towards the bar, slamming into the stools. Crying into your arms, pleading for someone to help you. You looked through your hands, sure that Josh was about to kick you in the face when suddenly he was taken down by a large figure. 

In one fluid motion, Josh was on the floor knocked out cold. Blood seeping from his nose and mouth. You closed your eyes in fear as the boots came closer to you, above you, you heard his voice, “Joe get the fuckin’ police down here. Have em pick up this deadbeat.” 

Clyde. 

Of course, it was Clyde. He must’ve heard the commotion from outside and came in when Josh threw you. You sobbed even harder into your arms, acutely aware that you may have broken your wrist when you landed. 

You were scooped in the air, cuddled into Clyde’s chest as you cried. You didn’t dare move, paralyzed from what just happened. 

“I’m takin’ her t’ the hospital. Lock up after the police leave,” Clyde growled at Joe. 

“Sounds good big boy.” 

Wrapping your legs around his waist and arms around his neck you cried into Clyde’s neck. Shaking from shock, every movement was shooting pain through your wrist but you didn’t want to be put down. Clyde was carrying you with his metal arm, secure under your ass, and he walked out of the bar towards his car. 

Opening up the passenger door he gently placed you inside, securing your seatbelt and shutting the door. He walked around the car and waved goodbye to Earl who just stared at you with an open mouth. Clyde climbed in, starting the car and drove out of the parking lot. No words were shared between the two of you, all that filled the air were your hiccuped sobs followed by Clyde’s deep breaths. 

----- 

The two of you sat in the emergency room lobby for about 20 minutes, Clyde had his arm around you the whole time. Giving you small kisses on your forehead and whispering “It’s okay darlin’,” every few minutes. 

Finally, the two of you were called back. Clyde quickly explained what happened to the doctor who was checking out your arm. Josh had managed to throw you against the barstools, leaving you with plenty of bruised ribs. On top of that, she assumed you did break your wrist when you landed, which meant x-rays. After going over the incident with both of you she excused herself to get the machine ready for you. 

“I’m sorry Clyde,” you whispered. 

“Why are y’ sorry? Y’ have nothin’ t’ be sorry bout darlin’,” he stood up in front of you. Placing his big paw on your knee, giving it a big squeeze. “Y’ don’ ever need t’ be sorry (Y/N).” 

You gulped, “Is your hand okay?” 

Clyde smiled at you, looking down at his knuckles which were barely bruising. “Y’ don’ need t’ worry about me. I was in the’ Army remember?” 

“Oh do they train you to punch assholes in the Army?” you hiccuped. 

“Sorta baby,” he kissed your forehead, “M’ sorry I was outside when he found y’. We probably wouldn’t be here if I had done my job.” 

You looked up at him. His eyes were searching yours, full of honesty and love. No one had ever protected you like he had, or even taken it out of your abuser. Even when you told your ‘friends’ about Josh they didn’t believe you, saying you were overreacting. But here and now you were being cared for by a man who desperately wanted you in his life. You felt the urge to tell him how you felt, how much you loved and appreciated him at this moment. 

“Miss (Y/N), the x-ray machine is ready for you!” 

“Oh, okay,” you pushed Clyde away from you. Moving out of the room with the tech, bringing you to the x-ray machine. She instructed you to take off your shoes and any other metal objects. She ran through a couple of cautionary questions like ‘have you had any issues with x-rays before’ and ‘is there any chance you’re pregnant’, all the normal questions. 

After about 10 minutes they escorted you back to the room where Clyde was waiting. He was sitting in one of the chairs, it was too small for his massive body. Staring down at his phone with a frown. 

“What’s wrong baby?” you asked, taking a seat on the table again. 

“Nothin’ just worried bout y’.” 

You sighed, looking down at your wrist. It was bruising really badly. If it wasn’t for Clyde, Josh probably would’ve done much more. You met his gaze again, taking a deep breath, “Clyde. Thank you. For this and for protecting me. I know I haven’t told you a lot but it means so much to me.”

“Of course Sunshine. There’s nothing in the world that would stop me from protectin’ y’.” 

You smiled, wanting to blurt out those three little words again but of course fate had other plans. 

“The x-rays looked good,” your doctor burst in, “Just a small hairline fracture. Should take about a month to fully heal. We will be putting you in a cast.” 

Nodding you looked over at Clyde who was sitting there with a pout on his face, “Okay that’s okay.” 

“However,” she sighed and set down her paperwork, “It wouldn’t be wise for you to be getting thrown around like that anymore considering you’re pregnant.” 

For the second time tonight, you froze. Pregnant? You couldn’t be pregnant, you were on the pill. Even though you and Clyde fucked like rabbits but you were really good at taking your birth control. Well pretty good, there were a couple times when you were late with taking it but that couldn’t have been the case for you getting pregnant. 

“We’re pregnant?” Clyde whispered next to you. 

“Yes, about 5 weeks pregnant. Came back from your urine sample earlier. I recommend getting in with a gyno here quickly since you’ll want to know if any harm has come to the baby.” 

“Okay,” you whispered back at her. She went on and on about your wrist after that, wrapping it in a cast and telling you how to take care of it but everything was turning into white noise. You couldn’t get over that you were pregnant, with Clyde Logan’s baby. Both of you were awestruck at the news. 

Before you left you made an appointment with the doctor she recommended for the next morning and Clyde drove the both of you to his house. Leroy greeted you at the door, following his master inside for some late-night snacks. You picked up your phone and let your office know you would be out for a couple of days, the injury and the news left you wanting some alone time with Clyde. 

The both of you made it to his bedroom. You had your own drawer in it, filled with pajamas and extra work clothes in case you forgot, and your nightstand had flowers and a phone charger for you. Clyde made sure you had everything you needed whenever you stayed, saying that his house was your house. You settled on the bed, staring up at Clyde who was taking off his work clothes. 

“So…” you coughed, “What uh-what do you think?” 

He furrowed his brow, “Bout what?” 

“About the weather,” you snapped at him, “The fuckin’ baby Clyde! What do you think about this?” 

He sighed and sat down next to you, pulling off his prosthetic arm and setting it on the nightstand. “It’s not up t’ me darlin’. This is yer choice an’ I will respect yer wishes.” 

You stared at him dumbfounded. You weren’t talking about that at all, you just wanted to know what his opinion on it was. Earlier today he had defended your honor, almost breaking his hand in the process, and now he was being weird about having children with you. Not like the two of you had an in-depth conversation yet, but you wanted to know what he wanted, especially since you were so close to saying the L-word earlier. 

“Please,” you grabbed his hand, “Just tell me what you’re thinking.” 

Clyde took in a deep breath, “I think,” he coughed, “I think yer gon’ be the most beautiful momma I’ve ever seen.” 

“Clyde,” you choked. 

“An’ I’m not jus sayin’ this because of it, but I love you (Y/N). I have for a while an’,” he sniffled pulling you into his arms, “I would love t’ raise a family with y’.” 

You cried into his chest, “Oh Clyde, I love you too!” 

Both of you held each other, crying into each other's necks. Placing deep kisses on your lips when you finally broke free, looking deep into each other’s eyes. Even though the night had started shitty, the two of you had come out the other side with wonderful news and signs of your love for one another. 

“We should get to sleep, we have a busy day tomorrow,” you grinned at him, wiping the tears from both your cheeks. 

“Okay sunshine,” he took a deep breath, collapsing next to you and pulling you into his chest. “I love you, it’s gonna be alright.” 

“I love you too Clyde,” you sighed kissing his chest, “Goodnight baby.” 

TAGLIST: @finn-ray-nal-beads​ @kirah36​ @morby​ @clumsycopy​ @onlykyloscenes​ @candycanes19​ @desiraypark​ @princss-bucky​ @swiss-mrs​ @douglasdriver​ @ghoulian13​ @direnightshade​ @millenialcatlady​ 

Poor Daddy Clyde was just tryna lay some PIPE AND HE DONE GOT US KNOCKED UP. Also, I'm sorry for the late update, this fic has a lot in it and unfortunately, I see Clyde as a family man and dad Clyde gets me WET.